


Serpents & Songbirds: Of Ash & Marble

by IchorBride



Series: Serpents & Songbirds [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Blood and Injury, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Multi, Obsession, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Slurs, Toxic traits, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 51,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28300515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IchorBride/pseuds/IchorBride
Summary: Sequel to Serpents & Songbirds.Follows the OC Lyra Piers, though the perspective switches in some chapters to assist the story telling.  Fred & George Weasley X OC, Draco Malfoy X OC. Note that this is a work of FICTION and IS NOT CANNON, though I try my best to be compliant to the original books and the cannon lore I was able to find on the Wizarding World.This is NOT a fluff story and will most likely not give you the happy ending you are searching for.Draco is TOCIX and ABUSIVE and I do NOT condone or advocate for anything he is portrayed saying or doing.PLEASE mind your triggers, and read the tags!  It is not my intention to offend or harm any of my readers. but if you ignore the warnings I give I cannot be help accountable.I do not own any of the Harry Potter Character's, this was written solely for my own personal entertainment purposes and figured I'd share. Please enjoy and continue with caution.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/OC, Fred & George Weasly/ OC, Fred Weasley/ OC, George Weasley/ OC
Series: Serpents & Songbirds [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072817
Comments: 7
Kudos: 4
Collections: The Books of Serpents & Songbirds





	1. Chapter 1- July 23, 8:42pm EST

**Author's Note:**

> I am not usually one to leave sappy notes on the tops of my stories, so I wouldn't expect them in the future and I apologize if I am messing with your reading experience. I appreciate all of the likes and comments. A special thanks goes out to NykKade for putting up with me basically abandoning them for MONTHS to write the original Serpents & Songbirds, this sequel and a few others. I never expected even one person to enjoy my story and was pleasantly surprised by the positive feedback on all of the platforms I posted on.   
> That being said, I would like to thank the user Becca specifically for their praise. When I was in a rut and wanted to discontinue this storyline, I re-read your comments and it relit the fire inside of me. Even though I started writing this for me, I think I may be writing for you now.   
> Now that I've taken care of that; Please enjoy the next installment of the series- Serpents & Songbirds: Of Ash & Marble

The night was overcast, the thick, humid air clung to Lyra’s clothes and frizzed her hair as she stepped off of the jet and followed her brother to their private car. “I still don’t understand why you had to bring them.” Thuban rolled his eyes and flopped into the car, she turned to watch the twins. Fred and George stepped from the aircraft with wobbly legs and an waxy, almost green complexion, “We aren’t even going to be here long.” He scoffed, “And _I_ didn’t want to come at all.”

“You act like I forced you to come.” Lyra smiled as the twins approached, with every step they took they were looking more and more relaxed, and far less sick. “You didn’t want to come see Uncle William and Uncle James? They never sent an Owl back.” She looked over her shoulder at Ban who slouched against the leather seat, “...And they weren’t at our house in London.”

“How many houses _do_ you have?” Fred placed his hand on the roof of the car and stooped to watch Lyra as she slid towards her brother, Fred raised an expecting eyebrow and Ban threw his head back against the seat.

“A few. But technically they’re our Uncles.” Lyra chuckled nervously, and watched as their driver excused himself and brought the seats down so the twins could climb in the back. “There’s the London Townhouse, the Maison de maître in Paris,” She hummed, “...then our home in-”

“No.” Ban interrupted with a roll of his eyes and he slung his arm over the back of the seat and pushed his other hand through his hair, “ _Technically_ they are ours, and our Uncles oversee our estates. We’re eighteen now, by the way. We should get that paper work done— are you getting in? The tarmac stinks.” He huffed as he undid the top two buttons of his shirt, “This whole fucking state stinks.”

“You don’t like New York?” George asked as he slid into the backseats with Fred.

Thuban laughed, “This? You think _this_ is New York?” He laughed again, “We’re in Jersey.” Lyra rolled her eyes and let their driver adjust the seat and close the door before she slid away from he brother, she propped her head on her fist and stared out of the window.

“Home please, Thomas.”

“Certainly Ma’am.”

“Have you seen much of Uncle William and Uncle James?” She watched the old man glance in the rear view mirror and then shake his head.

“No ma’am. But I’m not their assigned driver. I would advise calling for Ian when you get home.” She nodded silently as Ban complained about their air conditioning. The drive wasn’t as long as Lyra expected, traffic on the Lincoln Tunnel caused them to slow to a crawling pace, but they never stopped, and they were only stuck for ten minutes on West Thirty-Sixth Street. Thuban groaned loudly when George began to massage Lyra’s shoulders from the seat behind her. He leant forward and whispered things in her ear that made her blush an giggle.

Ban shifted even closer to the door and groaned, “For god’s sake.”

“You could have brought Luna. Or Hermione, or anyone really. It’s not like our Uncles’ will care.”

“I just don’t know why they _had_ to come?” The car pulled to a stop outside of their home on Maddison Avenue.

“They didn’t _have_ to come, just like you didn’t. I mentioned coming back to New York, mainly for Uncle James and Uncle William, but I also need a dress for the wedding.” She rolled her shoulders as George rubbed deep circles with his thumbs. “They asked to tag along and I love them, so it was an obvious choice. Isn’t that enough reason?” She popped open her wallet when Thomas pulled along their building, and gave the old man two, one hundred dollar bills, “I hope your daughter is well, last I heard she was in the hospital. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you Ma’am, Christine is doing better now, but every little bit helps.”

“Have a good night. We wont be needing you again any time soon, but please talk to Mary if you need an advancement on your salary, or a raise since you’ve been saddled with Thuban.” She patted the old man’s shoulders as she slid through the door Ban held open for her.

“You’re too nice.” He scoffed.

“He’s an old man.” Lyra rolled her eyes and watched the tall twins climb from the car, “Would it kill you to get rid of your attitude?”

“It might.” He smirked cockily.

“Whatever.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and strode towards the large building.

“What’s his problem?”

“He becomes an ass whenever we have to use the main entrance, too many people.”

“Come on!” Snapped Ban and the doorman to the building held the door graciously and Lyra nodded to him as they passed.

“Then why are we?”

“Because if our Uncles are home they may have No-Maj guests and we cant really explain us just popping into the living room.” Thuban held the elevator door and Fred and George looked around nervously.

“Is there nothing to hold then?” Lyra chuckled when they tensed as the elevator began to move. “How high up?”

“All the way.” Ban huffed again and leant against the elevator wall.

“About twenty-eight floors up is the ground floor of our home.” The door chimed and then opened into a white marble hallway. “Make yourselves at home.” Lyra moved swiftly through her home and smiled when she entered the kitchen. “Carmen!” The plump woman jumped as she wiped down the large white countertops.

“Miss Lyra!” She pulled her into a crushing hug and then smiled wider, “You’ve brought guests! Did your brother come home too?”

On cue Ban strode into the kitchen and kissed the short woman on the cheek as he passed her to the refrigerator, “Wouldn’t dare miss the opportunity to see you Carmen. Besides, over there, I had to practically choke down the slop they served.” Carmen glanced at Lyra who scrunched her nose and shook her head lightly. “Simply did not compare to anything you have to offer. What is that delicious smell?”

“You always know how to fatter me. Lori just helped me with a late dinner prep.” Carmen flushed.

“Did you happen to see Uncle William or Uncle James?”

“Oh, no, sweetheart. No I haven’t. Last I knew they were overseas doing business. Even had to send some of my recipes to that London chef.” She glanced back at Ban who laughed loudly, “Are they back as well?”

“Didn’t see them in London and I couldn’t really call them. I figured maybe they’d be here, they might be upstate then.”

“I could give a call if you’d like.”

“It’s fine Carmen.” Ban muttered as he pulled a sandwich from the fridge and began to unwrap it, “We’re heading up to there in a a day or two. Because someone—”

“Oh,” Lyra flushed and stepped back to push the twins forward, “These are...” She cleared her throat and Ban gave her an obnoxious look, “my boyfriends. Fred,” She patted his shoulder, “and George.”

“Bit old to be going to a boarding school.” Carmen said with a wink and shook their hands. “How did you meet?” She raised an accusatory eyebrow.

“Lyra was a guest in our home for the Holidays Ma’am.” Fred smiled.

“We fell completely head over heels for her and she hasn’t been able to shake us off yet.”

“Oh my.” Carmen flushed. “And how did she find herself at your—”

“My fault Carmen.” Ban chewed slowly and licked the sauce off of his fingers, “My friend Ron, he’s their younger brother, invited us for Christmas because our Uncles never got back to us” He took another bite, “and unfortunately theses two leeches” He pointed to them with his sandwich, “latched right onto her.” The twins shifted uncomfortably and Lyra glared at her brother.

“Stop being mean Ban.”

“I’m just saying, they took one look at her long Veela locks and boom, _“they fell in love”_...what bullshit.”

“I agree with Miss Lyra.” Carmen said sternly. “Where have your manners gone? Have I taught you nothing for the past fifteen years?”

“I’m afraid the Brit brutes chipped away all my manners. All that’s left is snark.”

“Well,” she huffed, “snarky boys don’t get my sandwiches.” Carmen rewrapped the sandwich and Thuban pouted. “Would you care for something to eat?” She wiped her hands on her apron as she faced Lyra again, “I have something in the oven right now, or I could order in, if you like?”

Lyra smiled, “Dinner would be lovely. We’ll take it on the roof whenever its done.” She pulled Fred and George after her and watched them take in the large home, “My room’s upstairs.” She nodded towards the staircase and the twins couldn’t hide how out of place they felt. “You okay?”

“You didn’t tell us that you-” Fred shifted awkwardly and pulled at his collar, “— it’s so big.” He cleared his throat and then looked down at his clothes, before fixating on the floor with a pinched expression.

“Oh, I didn’t really think it would have mattered.” George laughed dryly and followed Lyra up the stairs. “Third floor.”

“Care to give us a tour of your absolutely massive home?” George smiled down at her and Fred pushed his hands into his pockets, his shoulders slumped.

“Oh, well I guess I could... It’s not that interesting.” She shifted under their gaze and cleared her throat, “Do you really want to? It’s just like any other home really.” Lyra cleared her throat when Fred gave her a look that was steeped in contempt, she swallowed and then started up the stairs. “Well, there are eleven bedrooms, fourteen bathrooms...I think, I— I don’t really remember.” She scratched her forehead, “Well actually a few of the bedrooms were converted for me... so they’re not really bedrooms anymore.” She stood on the second landing and pointed down the hall, “Ban has the second floor. Except when we have guest, these two are the guest rooms.” She pointed to the doors closest on either side of the mouth of the hallway. She lead them up another flight of stairs and gestured into the hall. “These are all mine, well Ban can use some of them...” She lead them down the hall and around the large ottoman towards an ornate door with gold inlay. “This one’s my room.” She pushed the door and stepped into the bright room.

“You’re fucking kidding right?” Fred spun as he stepped into the bedroom.

“No?” Lyra backing into the door to her bedroom to close it and brushed her hand through her hair. “So... this is my bedroom.”

“It’s quite literally the size of our flat.” Fred scoffed.

“Oh come on. No its not, you’re exaggerating.” She bent to look under he bed and frowned.

“Your bed is the size of my bedroom.” George looked around the room in awe, the high ceilings and the soft whites and creams that adorned the walls. The pale marble was split with gold channels and the light fixtures seemed to drip diamonds and crystals, and bounced small rainbows around the large room. “You have a living room in your bedroom.” He stepped towards the sunken room and raked his eyes over the gold partitions flanking the opening, the long branches reached from floor to ceiling and was adorned with jewel toned birds. He stepped closer and noticed that they were actually gemstones, whole and large, carved into the shape of the birds and surrounded with a thin outline of gold.

Lyra strode towards the vanity and rolled her eyes, “No it’s not. There you are, I have people for you to meet.” She smiled and squatted to pick something up, “This is Bean,” Lyra turned slowly and held two small dogs, “and Burrito.” She smiled down at her Shiba Inus, Bean was black and tan and Burrito was cream with tan tips on his ears. “Judas should be around here somewhere, the chin ally he’s Ban’s though... Probably in the Aviary.”

“Aviary?” George frowned, “You have an Aviary?”

“Yeah, it was one of the rooms we passed.” She adjusted the dogs in her arms, “I’m not sure if Savannah put my birds up on the roof for today.” She checked her watch, “They should be inside anyways, even if she did.”

“Who’s Savannah?” Fred looked around the room slowly, taking in the room that didn’t seem to feel like it would be opened by Lyra.

“She takes care of my birds when I’m not here.” There was a light tinkling noise and Lyra smiled as she looked towards the door. “Thank you Lorelei.”

“Who’s Lorelei?” Lyra gestured to the small creature who gave a low bow, but she Dissapparated before Fred and George turned their heads.

“Our House Elf, she’s shy.” Lyra set the dogs down and they both trotted back to the fluffy bed under the vanity, “She brought our things up.” She moved past Fred and George and squatted to undo the birdcages, “Brought me Ban’s Owl too.” Lyra frowned, “Makes sense, he’s being an ass and probably forgot about him. We can put them in the Aviary, you coming, or did you want to stay here?” Fred and George nodded silently and followed Lyra out of the room and down the hall. She let her small Owl sit on her shoulder and held Ban’s large owl perched on her arm. “Such pretty birds. Bet you’ve missed everyone.” She frowned, “Ladon?” In a blink he was at her side and George almost tripped over the large feline. “I bet Kangee missed you.”

“Who’s Kangee?”

“My raven.”

“You have a raven?” asked Fred.

“Yeah, a few other birds too. A blue and gold, a Cockatoo, three Sun Conures...” The door swung open by itself and she smiled and scratched Ban’s owl’s chest. “Hence the need for an Aviary.” She smiled widely when she saw her friend tending to Kangee. “Hi Savannah.”

“Lyra!” Savannah stepped out of the large enclosure. “We didn’t expect you back, figured you’d stay with your Uncles back in London for the break.”

“Ban and I couldn’t get in touch with them. So we figured we pop home.” Savannah held her arm out and Ban’s large owl stepped from Lyra’s arm to the Bird Keeper’s. “Did you see Judas anywhere? I figured he’d be here, with Kangee.”

“Oh, Kianna brought him down to the groomers.” Lyra smiled and watched Savannah glance past her to Fred and George. “Body guards?”

“Something like that.” Fred snarked.

“Lorelei?” Lyra sighed as she placed her owl in her own enclosure. “Lorelei?” There was a small tug on her skirt and she smiled, “Sorry. Didn’t realize you came in. Could you find a pair of trunks for Fred and George. I think Uncle James is about their size, he should have plenty so he wont miss two. Bring them to my room please.”

“Yes Mistress. Lorelei is happy to serve.” The small elf bowed and Lyra looked at Fred and George who shifted uncomfortably and then she glanced at Savannah.

“Oh, she’s a Witch. Few years ahead of me.” She smiled, “Savannah wants to be an Owl breeder and tamer. So she takes care of my birds and gets use the extra space we have for any pairs or babies.” The twins raked a disapproving eye over Savanah, her blond hair was tousled messily and held back from her face with a scarf. She wore something like a bikini as a top, burgundy velvet, and wide, dark, jeans that stopped inches off the floor due to her platforms. Savanah adjusted her matching jean jacket and chewed her gum slowly as she sized up the twins. “Enough with the stand off.” Lyra latched the cage and sighed, “We’re going to go up to the roof. Wanna come?”

“As if.” Savanah rolled her eyes. “How long you bozos staying?”

“Probably a day or two. Why?”

“Wanted to know how long I have to stay clear of Ban.” Lyra chuckled.

“Why? I’m sure he’d like your new look.”

Savannah blushed and wobbled on her platforms, “You think?”

“Oh yeah. Very Drew meets Gwen and Courtney. Besides everyone over there dresses so bland, even when we’re not in uniforms. I’m sure he’d be happy to get back to normal.”

  
  


“Is that how you dress?” Lyra frowned at Fred as they walked back to her room.

“Would that be a problem?” The twins laughed nervously, “I dress however I feel like, honestly. More so, I dress for the occasion. You’ve seen what I wear, you made me move all my clothes into your apartment.”

Fred and George stared around her room awkwardly as she moved into the sitting room and sat to unzip her boots. They followed and then stood in front of her desk. “That’s my computer.”

“Computer.” Fred repeated with a frown and nodded a bit.

“Who are all these people?” George pointed to posters and pictures that covered the small alcove behind her computer.

“Bands or people I like. Green Day, Curt Cobain, Gwen Stephani, Brad Pitt, Sandra Bullock, you know... movie stars or musicians.” Lyra pulled her clothes off slowly as she moved into her closet and changed into her bathing suit. “Some models I like, like Tyra Banks.” She called out to them and adjusted her top as she went to stand next to them, “Neve Campbell was great in Scream.” She pointed to a small photo of the actress in a burgundy velvet dress, “My Uncle William actually went out and bought me that exact dress when I freaked out over it. She looks so good.” Lyra leant further past them and tapped at a photo that was higher on the wall, “Sarah Michelle Gellar is also amazing. She was in Scream two with Neve Campbell, it came out in December, so I didn’t get a chance to see it. I’m sure Carmen got it for me on tape by now, oh, and of course there’s Jamie Lee Curtis.” She tapped her photo twice, “She was in Halloween. Absolutely my favorite horror movie. So freaking good, have you seen it?” She glanced up at the twins and noticed how flushed they were. “You okay?”

“Dad would love it here. So many muggle things, its almost like you are one of them.” Said Fred as he looked down at her.

“Well, I was raised by them. And I like to keep current, though being at Hogwarts really messed up everything.” She turned to face them and scratched her shoulder. “Do you guys not go to the movies or read magazines or anything like that?”

“We read the Quibbler.” George shifted uncomfortably and moved his eyes slowly over Lyra’s body.

“Right.” She blushed, “There are trunks for you on the bed.”

“Trunks?”

“For swimming,” she gestured to her body, “Hence the bathing suit.” Lyra chuckled, “What, ya’ll have bikinis in England right? Bathing suits are a thing, right?”

“Yes Lyra, we have swimming costumes.” Lyra laughed at Fred and he reddened.

“I’m sorry. What? They’re bathing suits— you know what,” she held her hands up and giggled, “it doesn’t matter. Let’s get going or I’ll leave you here.”

  
  


Fred and George stood awkwardly at the pool side as Lyra dove in, they watched her swim for a bit and then stared out into the city. When she surfaced she followed their eyes out onto the skyline. “Pretty isn’t it? All the lights.” She brushed the wet hair from her face and sighed, “Aren’t you coming in? It’s saltwater.”

“Like the ocean?”

“Kind of.” Lyra chuckled and George sat on the edge with his legs in the water. “Freddie?” He tried to suppress his smile and licked his lips as he sat beside his brother. “Your loss. It was so hot today, I was _dreaming_ of this the whole flight.” She floated for a while and then dipped her head back under the water. “Sucks you couldn’t meet my Uncles. I’m sure they would like you.” Lyra swam to them and laid her head against George’s thigh. “I’m starting to get worried. It’s been months since I heard from them.” George leant forward and rubbed her shoulder slowly. “It’s so unlike them, really, they’ve always Owled us back.”

“Stop stressing.” Lyra lifted her head when her brother flopping into one of the lounging chairs. “They have lives and are busy men. It was like this that one year, when we were fourteen I think. Uncle James almost got married, remember.”

“Yeah, but our letter were returned then. I haven’t gotten any of my letter back. Have you?”

“All of them.” Ban crossed his legs and accepted the martini Carmen offered him.

“Dinner will be done in about fifteen. Did you still wish to eat up here, Lyra?”

“Yes, please. Fred and George will take it up her with me too, Ban?”

“I’m not hungry, thank you Carmen. But you can keep these coming, please.”

“Phone call didn’t go well?” Carmen asked and Ban answered by eating one of the olives.

“Dry.” Ban groaned and sipped his drink.

Fred slipped into the pool and Lyra wrapped her arms around George’s waist so she could let her legs float up behind her. “What phone call did you make Ban?”

“I called Zion.”

“Why?” Lyra laughed.

“And then I called Edwin.”

“You’re kidding me.” Lyra adjusted her head on George’s lap and he massaged her back some more, leaning forward and sliding his thumbs along her spine. Lyra moaned loudly and he shifted on the edge of the pool, she kissed his stomach and he squeezed her playfully.

“And then... Yeri showed up, becuase Edwins a gossipy bitch.”

“What do you mean she showed up?”

“She’s here.” Lyra groaned and leaned around George to see her brother better.

“What do you mean _here._ ”

“She’s downstairs Lyra. Stop being stupid.”

“But... why?” George fiddled with the string of her bikini top and then ran his hands down her back, caressing and covering the whole of her back with his large hands.

“Apparently, she missed me.”

“Why?”

George slid off the edge of the pool, sank into the water with a groan and wrapped Lyra’s legs around him as he blacked himself against the wall. “My charming disposition.”

“Did she Owl you?” Lyra ran her hands up George’s stomach, over his chest and tried not to smile as his muscles flexed under her light touches. He cupped her thighs and slid his hands up her legs and rounded her backside. He squeezed her ass and then pressed their groins together as he kissed her shoulder.

“She just showed up, she’ll be up soon... most likely.”

“Great.”

“You don’t like her?” Fred was behind her and she shook her head.

“I mean there’s no _actual_ reason for it I guess. She’s just, too pretty.” Fred and George laughed in unison and Ban chewed another olive.

“Says the Veela.” Ban cackled.

“Get fucked.” Lyra leant her head to the side as Fred placed a kiss on her neck and then trailed his lips to her back, a shiver coursed through her.

“I might.” Ban finished his gin and chewed his last olive just in time for Carmen to bring him two more, setting the second on the table beside him.

“Gross.” George sank a bit lower, bending his legs so she straddled him and he gripped her hips, rubbing small circles over her pelvis.

“Says the girl who fucks the twins at the same time. You’re basically getting dry hummed right now.” Carmen snapped her head towards the pool and Lyra sank against George who gripped her ass playfully. Her cook stepped into the elevator to return to the kitchen without a word, but her face was scarlet.

“Fuck off mate.” Fred growled.

“Not your mate.” Ban downed his second drink in one go and put the speared olives into the full glass. “You’re just fucking my sister. We’re not friends.”

“What’s your problem?” Asked George, turning his head to glare at Ban as he lounged.

“This started from the plane.” Lyra sighed and wriggled away from the twins. “It’s the proximity, too many open minds. We should head out in the morning, before he becomes an even bigger asshole.”

“That’s not why.” Lyra pulled herself from the pool and pulled the towel from under her brother’s head.

“Oh really?” Lyra rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, really.” He glared up at his sister.

“Fine. If that’s the case, then there’s no excuses for you. And if you don’t stop it, I’ll show you the side of me I reserve exclusively for Malfoy.” Ban deflated, wincing as she opened her mind and let her anger wash over him along with flashes of her memories and emotions. Ban sipped his drink slowly, “I’ll see you in the morning. I plan on leaving by noon the latest, I have to go dress shopping for the wedding.” Lyra tossed the wet towel at her brother’s face, “Fix your attitude Ban, or just fucking leave.” She turned to the pool but Fred and George were already out of the water and toweling off.

“Carmen?” Lyra called as she strode from the elevator, “Carmen, we’ll take dinner in my room.” Lyra smiled as she stepped into kitchen and Carmen was busy plating their meals. “Idiot’s still up by the pool.”

“I wasn’t sure what you boys ate. And I was making something simple really. It’s just something that I was already making when you popped in.” She returned the lid to the Dutch oven and Lyra smiled wider. “Ossobuco.” Carmen wiped her hands on her apron and Lyra pulled a plate from the counter and kissed her cook on the cheek.

“It smells amazing. Polenta?”

“Risotto alla Milanese.”

“I’m excited. Thank you, Fred, George, did you want to take a plate?”

“Yeah.” George scratched his temple and accepted the plate Lyra handed him.

“Thank you.” Fred shifted his weight and stared at the food.

“Do you not eat red meat?” Carmen asked with wide eyes.

“I’m not really sure what it is.” Fred frowned.

“Veal shank with a saffron risotto, carrots, onions, oh and zucchini balls.” Carmen smiled and Lyra popped one in her mouth. “Pretty simple dear.”

“Simple.” Fred smiled weakly, “Right. Thank you.”

“Would you prefer to eat in the dining room Miss Lyra? Or perhaps the store room? Would you care for some wine with dinner?”

“Oh that would be great Carmen. I’ve got it from here though,” Lyra glanced at Fred and George and bit the inside of her lip, “you just go give dinner to my brother and his _guest._ He should eat if he’s knocking back gin.” She frowned, “Cut him off now, though. He’s being an ass.” Carmen laughed and agreed.

Lyra grabbed a handful of silverware and lead them through the house to the storeroom. She ran her finger along the large glass wall until she found the bottle of wine she preferred and slid the glass to the side to retrieve it. “Are you two okay?” She screwed the opener into the cork and set three glasses on the long table. “You’ve been acting really... strange.” She jerked the cork out and set the bottle down to let it breathe.

Fred stared down at his plate and Lyra frowned, “You could have told us.”

“Told you what?” Lyra chuckled as she sat across from the twins.

“That you were _settling_ ...for us.”

“What are you talking about?” Lyra scoffed and cut into the shank.

“You never even mentioned your family to us.” George pushed his risotto around his plate and Lyra’s frown deepened.

“Are you sure?” She filled the three glasses and shrugged, “I thought I did, I told someone. Showed Ginny and Hermione my family too... are you sure I never showed you guys?”

“Positive.” Fred said flatly.

“Who’d I tell then?” Lyra tapped her plate with her fork and shook her head. “I could have sworn—”

“Malfoy right?” Asked Fred with an annoyed smirk, “You told him _all_ about your life, did you? Left us in the dark though.”

“No.” Answered Lyra immediately and chewed her dinner slowly, “No. We didn’t talk about my life, really. He found out about my family, I suppose, but his family sent out to figure out my heritage.” Lyra chuckled and added more wine to her glass, “It was Dean, in the boat house. And Blaise when he asked me about my family at the Green and Blue. Sort of, I told him that I was a debutant when he commented on my dancing abilities.” She took a long drink of her wine and watched both brother’s expressions. “What?”

“We’ve never asked you, have we?” George looked as if he was slapped and Lyra chuckled to herself.

“If you did I’m sure I would have told you anything you wanted to know. I wasn’t exactly hiding it.” Lyra shrugged, “None of this really matters to me anyways, money isn’t important.”

“Says the girl who’s had it all her life.” Lyra’s chest stung at Fred’s tone.

“This coming from the guy who spent _how_ much on a dragonskin cloak for me?”

“That was a gift.”

“So was this.” She gestured to the room, “It was all a gift. Being born with all of this,” She chewed her food slowly and then dabbed her lips with a napkin, “was a gift. I didn’t _ask_ for it, you can have it if thats what you want.”

“I don’t want your money Lyra.”

“Then why are you acting as if its something terrible to have?” She sat back on the stool and laughed, “You’re embarrassed.” Fred’s eyes narrowed and George chewed his food quietly as he flicked his eyes between his brother and Lyra. “You really think I care about how much money you have? You _actually_ think I’m that shallow?” She scoffed and lifted her glass in a mocking toast.

“I’m not embarrassed!” Fred’s face was flushed, “I just don’t—”

“Then why are you making such a big deal about it? So what if I have all of this. It’s just _things_ Fed, they don’t mean anything.”

“You don’t understand, it’s not... I don’t care about how much money you have Lyra. But I mean... well, it’s obvious that you deserve someone better. Someone who can give you all of this. You deserved more than us.”

“Speak for yourself Freddie.” George sipped his wine and then continued to eat quietly, Lyra bit the inside of her lip to stop from smiling.

“Someone who can give you the lifestyle you’re used to. Someone—”

“Someone like Draco?” George choked on the veal and Lyra glared at Fred, “Someone with more money than he knows what to do with. Someone who would spend an outrageous amount of money on dresses and skirts and jewelry, right? Doesn’t he live in a massive manor too?”

“That’s not what I—” He sputtered, “You _know_ that’s not what I meant.”

“No, I get it Fed. But just because you _think_ you’re not enough for me doesn’t make it true.” She took another drink of her wine, “You and your brother are absolutely everything I could have ever hoped for in a partner- or partners.” George winked at her as he ate, “Do I like expensive things?” She laughed, “I mean obviously. But I don’t _need_ them. None of this is necessary for me to be happy or heathy or even comfortable.” She shook her head, “If you can’t see that you and George are all that I need, then obviously I’m doing something wrong.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to give you this life Lyra.”

“That’s fine.” She ate her dinner slowly and smirked, “You don’t have to.” She shrugged and stared up at him as she lifted her glass, “I’ll give it to you.” George chuckled and Fred ate his food quietly.

## ❧

Lyra laughed loudly and poured the rest of the wine into her glass as Carmen cleared their plates. “Your Professor _really_ turned Malfoy into a ferret?” She raised and eyebrow as she sipped from her glass. “Why didn’t _I_ think of that?”

“Too busy using Unforgivables.” Fred smiled and Carmen bristled as she set the desert down.

“Thank you Carmen. Ban still up top?”

“He and that girl—” Carmen tutted and then shot a warning glance at the twins. “Improper woman. Money hungry.”

“They own their own shop, really fancy too.” Lyra nodded and Fred and George flushed, “Didn’t even know I had money.”

“The way you wave it around?” Carmen scoffed, Lyra laughed again and cocked her head as she left a small amount of wine in her glass and then tapped her wand on it to refill it.

She frowned as she drank, “Not as good as the original.” She whispered to herself and sucked her teeth, “Besides, Carmen, I do _not_ wave it around. That’s Ban, I’m surprised he wasn’t having everyone call him Prince or Lord.”

“Didn’t some of your friends call you Heiress?”

“I was eleven! And Ban started that whole thing with that _Witch_ upstairs.” She smiled and ate a bit of the cheesecake Carmen had topped with raspberry sauce, “I didn’t mind it though.”

“Harry had something similar happen to him.” Fred chuckled, “Though it wasn’t a good thing to be called the Heir of Slytherin.”

“The Basilisk thing, right?” Lyra nodded and set her glass down, “Ban told me, well he _showed_ me what happened really. Big fucking snake.” Carmen left quietly and Lyra tensed when she heard giggling coming from the elevator. “Why was he called the Heir?”

“He could speak to snakes.” Lyra shook her head and shivered involuntarily.

“I _hate_ snakes. Ban has one, I won’t go anywhere near that disgusting little thing, wish Kangee would get out of his enclosure and eat it.”

“Do you really throw around money?” George raised an eyebrow.

“I mean... I used to when I was little, I have an allowance that I’m supposed to spend.” She moaned at the taste of the cheesecake and licked the sauce from the fork. “I’m not reckless with it, anymore, I usually just buy clothes and sweets. Used to use it to purchase animals but I don’t exactly have the space for them back at school. Been spending most of my money on sweets in Hogwarts, exchanging the from US to UK currency and then changing it to Galleons and putting it in my Gringots vault.” She shrugged.

“An allowance?” Lyra reached across the table and stole a bite of Fred’s Crème brûlée.

“Yeah, it’s, well you know, an amount of money I’m _allowed_ to spend.” Lyra snarked and licked her lips, savoring the taste. “Oh god, that’s better than sex.” She gestured to his desert with her spoon, “Carmen really out did herself with that.” She glanced up at the twins and then followed their eyes to her chest that was barely covered by her swimsuit. “How’s the ice cream Georgie?” She sat back in her chair and drank from her glass, “Such a klutz.” Lyra laughed and used her middle finger to catch the drop of wine that dripped between her breasts and then sucked it off of her finger. “Well I am _full_ ,” Lyra smiled, “and my suit is still _wet,_ I think I’m going to go shower. Enjoy your desert.” She hummed lightly and grabbed another bottle of wine from the rack. “For a nightcap.” She winked and the crock shot from the bottle making both men jump.

Lyra smiled in the elevator as she heard them scramble out of the room. When they met her in her bedroom she held the bathing suit top off to the side and let the damp fabric fall to the floor, before stepping out of her bottoms, bending low to drag them down her legs. “Fucking hell.” Fred and George exhaled together.

“Don’t have to take turns here.” Lyra chuckled and lifted the hair from the back of her neck as she made her way towards the bathroom, grabbing the bottle of wine from her dresser. “Shower’s pretty big, if you wanted to join.” George fumbled with his trunks and tripped when Fred rushed past him into the bathroom.

The room was filled with the steam from the many shower heads that loudly doused the large shower, Fred was on her in an instant. Lifting her into his arms and pinning her against the wall as she drank from the bottle. He pressed his erection between her thighs and she frowned, “You’re still wearing your trunks.” She rolled her hips into his, “Pity.”

“God you’re fucking beautiful.”

“I know.” Lyra smiled and let him suck on the tender skin of her neck. George pulled the bottle from her hand and drank slowly as Lyra moaned at Fred’s touch. She reached for him, gripped his shoulders and pulled George’s mouth to hers, moaning and panting into his mouth as Fred flexed his fingers inside of her. George pulled his brother’s shoulder and when he moved away from the wall he stubbornly brought Lyra with him. George slid behind them and moved the hair from Lyra’s neck so he could kiss her, nipping at her shoulder and the back of her neck as she reached around and pulled his hair. “Fu—uck.” Lyra panted and George pressed against her ass. “Not tonight.” She moaned and rocked her hips towards Fred who popped her up higher and swirled his tongue over her nipple. George reached between them to lead himself into her and Lyra pulled his hair harder, “I said not tonight.” Lyra moaned as Fred removed his fingers and palmed her other breast as he ravaged her mouth. Lyra adjusted her hips and George sank slowly into her, she tensed and moaned as she rolled her hips.

“Fuck this.” George groaned and looped his arms around her knees and bucked into her roughly.

“George!” Lyra screamed at the speed and how spread she was, “Holy—” her head fell against his shoulder and he smirked smugly as he nuzzled against her neck.

“I thought you said we didn’t have to take turns.” Fred rubbed her clit slowly and swiped his tongue long her jaw as George bucked into her. “You going to turn so I can fuck that tight little ass of yours?” Lyra’s body radiated heat and George cursed as she tightened around him.

“I don’t want—” Fred held her throat and George sucked harder on her shoulder.

“ _I_ don’t want to wait.” He stroked himself, spitting into his hand and running it along his length. “You know your safe word.”

Lyra nodded, “Mang—” Fred covered her mouth.

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it Darling.” Her eyes widened when tapped her clit with his head. He stepped closer and pressed against her core.

“You’re too big.” Lyra’s head fell against George as Fred slowly pushed into her. “You’re fucking stretching me—” Lyra and George cursed as Fred pressed closer to her, gripping her hip tightly. “I can’t... you’re so fucking big.” Lyra bit back a scream and pulled on George’s hair and sank her nails into Fred’s shoulder as he pushed more of himself into her.

“That’s my girl.” Fred smiled, “I knew you could take both of us.” Lyra was panting and had her eyes squeezed shut as she pulled Georges hair and dug her nails into Fred’s shoulder. “I’m going to move now Darling.” Lyra gave a curt nod and her lips parted as she tried to adjust to the feeling of both of them inside of her.

“Fuck. Don’t—” George growled and bit into Lyra’s neck.

“You’re so fucking tight Lyra.” Fred rocked his hips into her, “Such a good fucking girl.”

“Don’t squeeze like that.” George cursed and began to move, “Fuck you’re so small. So fucking wet—”

“You’re so fucking flushed...” Fred peppered her face with kisses as the brother’s found their rhythm. “You’re so fucking cute like this. Having us stretching you like this. You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Lyra bit her lip and groaned as their pace picked up.

“I’m so fucking close Lyra. You’re doing so fucking good.” Lyra groaned when Fred slipped out of her and before he could lead himself back inside of her she adjusted her hips to pull George out as well.

She was on her knees before them and Fred fisted her hair roughly as she stroked George. “Want to taste how wet you are?” Lyra nodded and opened her mouth, “Suck.” She obeyed and Fred let out a throaty moan as she swirled her tongue over his tip.

“Open your mouth.” George demanded and stepped closer as Lyra turned to him,

“Fuck. Lyra—” Fred moaned.

“Wider.” George moaned and Lyra knelt with her mouth open and tongue out as he pressed his head against it. “Fu—uck!” He moaned and Lyra hummed as Fred pressed his into her mouth along with his brother.

They stroked themselves and moaned in unison as they found their release, spilling over her tongue and into her open mouth. “God you’re fucking magic.” Fred panted and Lyra used her thumb to wipe the corner of her mouth.

“Are all Veela so fucking—” George stroked Lyra’s bottom lip with his thumb.

“Plan on leaving this one?” Asked Fred, Lyra pulled George’s finger into her mouth and he pressed on her tongue as she bit down.

“Never.” Lyra smiled and stood slowly and stepped into the water.

The twins followed and hissed, “Fuck that’s hot.” Lyra laughed and let the water redden her skin as she rinsed the suds off.

“Babies.” She ran her hands down her hair.

“Speaking of—” Fred pressed himself against her, grinding his erection against her hip.

“Already?” Lyra took a deep breath and focused on her magic.

“You’re going to make me fall to my knees if you keep that up Darling.” Fred growled as he pressed a kiss to her head. “You can ease up.”

“I don’t want to.” Lyra purred as she turned into his arms and nipped his ear. “I think I’d like you on your knees.” As if he was Imperioused, Fred fell to his knees and Lyra moaned as he kissed a trail from her ankle to her knee as lifted her leg over his shoulder. Fred sucked and nibbled on her inner thigh. “What’s with that face.” Lyra smirked and watched as George turned his snarl away from his brother and his eyes soften instantly when she smiled at him.

“He doesn’t deser—”

Lyra moaned as Fred pressed the flat of his tongue over her, she fisted her hand in his wet hair and George stepped closer. Reaching to pull his brother away from her. “Don’t be so selfish.” She wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled him close to kiss him deeply.

“I don’t want him touching you.” Fred growled against her as he plunged his tongue inside of her.

“If you can’t play nice I’m not letting either of you touch me like this.” She let another wave of her magic pulse through her and George almost collapsed against her.

Fred whimpered and panted against her thigh, “I can’t take it Lyra. You’re not even touching me and I’m so close.” He moaned, his arms shook as he held her thigh. Lyra smirked and moaned when George bit her shoulder. “You’ve never used this much before. Let me fuck you. Please.” He panted.

“George first.” Fred whimpered and Lyra pulled his hair back to lean down and kiss him. “You’re too needy Freddie.” He hummed at her touch, she ran her hand over his cheek and then raked her nails through his hair, Fred’s body shook. “Are you coming.” George let Lyra lead him to the bed, dripping though the sitting room and the fluffy rugs.

He watched her hips as she walked, “Fuck.” He bit his lip when a wave of euphoria washed over him as Lyra bent over the bed, stretching her arms out and arching her back. She swayed her hips lightly and waited for him. “I fucking love you Lyra.”

“I know.” She moaned as he slid his body along her back, slicking his length as he slid between her folds and tapped his head on her clit. “Don’t tease me.” Lyra pushed back against him and he moaned loudly as he slid slowly into her.

“You like watching me get fucked by your brother?” George glanced up from where his body met hers and watched as Fred lustfully nodded his head. His gaze locked on her face as she licked her lips and moaned as George pushed deeper into her. Fred knelt at the side of the bed, his mouth popping open as Lyra moaned.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” Fred cupped her chin and kissed her slowly as she gasped and moaned into his mouth. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

“Fuck— George!” Lyra arched her back higher when he pressed a slick thumb against her ass.

“Do it again.” Fred moaned, “Her face—” the rest of his sentence was cut off when Lyra pulled him into a kiss.

“Are you touching yourself?” Lyra panted and Fred nodded and pressed his forehead to hers. “Such a fucking pervert.” She smirked, “Getting off to your brother fucking me.”

“It should be me.” Fred moaned as Lyra dug her nails into his scalp as she came undone, her body shuddered as she screamed her release against Fred’s mouth

“I think he’s doing a pretty good job.” She smirked and gasped when George pulled one of her legs up onto the bed. “Fuck! Right there!”

“Cum for him again Lyra. I want to watch you cum.” Lyra pulled Fred back into a kiss and he moaned when she bit his bottom lip. “Can I touch you?”

“No.” George wrapped his arm around her and palmed her breast, “I’m so close again, George. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” He ignored her and pulled from her, flipping her to her back and sinking to plunge his tongue inside of her.

“Touch me.” Fred begged and Lyra arched her back away from the mattress as George sucked on her throbbing clit. “Lyra please.” She reached for him and he moaned when she opened her mouth for him. “You’re so pretty.” Lyra swiped her tongue along his length and held George’s hair with her other hand, holding him to her as he stroked her with his tongue. “Such a pretty fucking girl with your mouth around my cock.”

She teased Fred until his legs shook, “Touch me.” She begged and Fred leant towards her as George moved lower. “Fred please.” Lyra begged and then shouted George’s name when he pushed his tip against her ass. Fred curled his fingers inside of her, pressing over and over on the spot that made her toes curl and legs shake.

“You’re so fucking tight.” George moaned and Lyra screamed her release.

“Holy shit.” Fred smirked, “Was that from me or him?” Lyra pushed her arm over her face and bit her lip as George gave his final deep thrust, gripping her thighs tightly as they shook. Fred’s fingers scowled until he pulled them from her and plunged his soaked fingers into her mouth. “Taste what you did.” He hummed and pushed his tongue inside of her mouth along with his fingers. Swirling them all together, sucking on her tongue when he removed them from her mouth. “So fucking sweet.”

“Please.” Lyra whined, “The night stand.” George moved shakily to her night stand and chuckled. “Purple hilt.” Fred was on top of her, kissing her overly sensitive skin and nipping at her breasts. Lyra squealed when he rolled them and bucked his erection against her. “Wait I don’t want to—” she moaned as George pushed her down against Fred’s chest.

He pressed the small metal plug against her and she whined as it stretched her, “Don’t want to have me leak out of you?” He kissed her lower back as he slowly pushed the plug inside of her. “So fucking pretty.” He bent and licked her again, spitting over her folds and gave her a final harsh spank before leaving for the shower again.

Lyra pressed her face into Fred’s chest as he lead her down onto him. “Look at me Darling.” He pushed her to sit upright on him and held her hips as he bucked up into her, “It feel’s good doesn’t it? I love seeing you fall apart like this.” Lyra bit her lip and he thrust harder into her as she clenched around the plug and his length, “Let me hear you, please Darling, you sound so pretty for me.” Lyra’s eyes rolled and she held Fred’s thighs for support, she leant back to brace herself as she rolled her hips, and he rubbed circles on her clit. “Cum again Darling, for me. Cum for me Lyra.” As if his words were law she came undone as he touched her, her thighs snapped tight around him and she fell forward against his chest.

“Fred. Please, I-I can’t.”

“Watching you come undone like this is so fucking sexy.” Lyra rolled her his towards him and tried to focus on her magic, “Can’t get me off like that anymore?” He chuckled and rolled her onto her back and pulled her leg up and around him. He rocked into her slowly as he kissed every inch of her skin, leaving marks over her check and nipping her ear as she clenched around him. “God you feel like Heaven.”

“Please Fred. I need you to—”Lyra shattered again and Fred chuckled.

“Cum?” He offered and Lyra panted her agreement as her legs shook and tried to keep him still. “You want me to fucking fill you, don’t you?”

“It’s too much.” She moaned and whined as he pulled out of her and then sunk fully into her again.

“I’m close Darling.” Fred kissed her and moaned when she pushed me magic into him, “That’s not fair.” He smiled against her lips and snapped his hips faster. “You though you could just tease me and I’d let you get away with it?” Lyra moaned and raked her rails down his back, Fred hissed and bit her shoulder to stop from crying out as he spilled into her. He tightened arms around her back as he rolled on his side, taking her with him.

“Fred.” Lyra panted and he kissed her forehead as their breathing steadied, she whined as he twitched inside of her. “Shower?”

“You can barley move.” Fred laughed and dipped to kiss her, rocking his hips into her, keeping her full and plugged with his length as she pulsed around him. “Just sleep.” He opened his hand and used his wand to make the sheets pull from under them and draped lightly over them. “Such a good girl, Darling.” He kissed her damp forehead and she nuzzled tighter in his arms. “So fucking pretty.” He rolled his hips as she adjusted her thigh over his hip.

“Cockwarming? Really Fred?” George groaned as he laid behind Lyra.

“Don’t worry. I left your plug in, brother.” Lyra tried to hit him but she was too exhausted and merely thumped her fist against his chest. “Just sleep Darling. We can take it out in the morning.”

“You’re into some weird shit.” George kissed Lyra’s cheek and she smiled lightly.

“If you felt how tight she’s fucking gripping me you wouldn’t want to leave either.” He readjusted his pillow and help Lyra tighter to him, wrapping his arm around her back and squeezed her thigh that draped over him. “I love you.”

“Love you too Freddie.” Laughed George.

“Fuck off mate.”

## ❧

“No.” Lyra held her cellphone to her ear and rolled her eyes, “Because I’m leaving this afternoon.” Her driver held the elevator door open and she stepped into her home, “Well, I didn’t think you’d want to go dress shopping with me Zion.” Lyra turned to her driver and nodded towards the living room, “Just in there Sebastian.” She rolled her eyes again, “He’s my driver you idiot. No, Ban’s is Thomas. Patrick was fired a year ago.” She moved the phone to her other ear and rummaged through the bags, “What did you and Ban talk about yesterday then?” Lyra laughed, “You’re not going to meet them. Don’t dodge the question.”

“Who are you talking to?” George stood on the stairs and Lyra smiled up at him.

“I’m just on the phone, George.” Lyra frowned, “Shut up, you’re so obnoxious.” She glanced back at George as he neared her, “Not you, I’m talking to my friend.” She looked back down at her bags, “No, I was talking to you Zion... Don’t come over here if you and Thuban are fighting. He’s already being an asshole.” Lyra groaned, “Because I’m leaving for the cabin in a few hours and I’m not in the mood to see anyone. It’s none of your business. You’re not _obligated_ to meet my boyfriends... No, I don’t know when I’ll be back. No. No, Zion I’m serious—” She groaned again and tossed her phone on the sofa behind her. “I swear if he shows up here, I’ll kill him.”

George picked up the small black phone from the couch and frowned as he sat. “How does this work.” Lyra chucked and regretted it when his face fell.

“Oh, well. This is the dial pad, with all the numbers, so if I know someone else’s phone number I can type it in and call them. If they answer we can talk from wherever they are.”

“Oh, you couldn’t just send them an Owl or a Potronus or—”

“Well, with this I can talk to them in real time, just like we are right now, and, well, I have a lot of No-Maj friends. Can’t really send them Owls.”

“Oh.” George perused his lips, “That makes sense.”

“It’s like a portable telephone.”

“Telephone.” George repeated and then his eyes glazed past her. “And what is that? A muggle mirror? Why is it so dark?” Lyra glanced over her shoulder towards the television and suppressed her giggle.

“No. No, that’s a television. A Tv, most aren’t this big really, my Uncles are... excessive.” Lyra rolled her eyes.

“What does it do?”

“Well you can watch shows or movies on it. The news, or sports.”

“Quidditch?”

“No.” She scratched her arm, “No, No-Maj sports. Like soccer or football, Uncle James is a big baseball fan.”

“Do you watch sports?”

“Not really, I like football, sort of, but I don’t really follow it. I usually just watch movies.”

“Movies.”

“Yeah.”

“How does it work?” George stared at the screen and his frown deepened.

“Oh, well you have to turn it on.” Lyra walked towards the large television and pressed the power button and then retrieved the remote from the top of it, “Anything in particular?”

“You said you like movies.”

“I did.” Lyra smiled and stood in front of a cabinet, “Do you know what genre you might like?” She glanced over her shoulder and George looked extremely confused, “Comedy, romance, horror?” She ran her finger along the back of the VHS’s and chewed the inside of her cheek. “Did you want to come look and see if there’s anything that catches your eye?”

“Just pick something. I just want to see what it is.”

“I mean Happy Gilmore is okay. Here,” She smiled, “Jaurassic Park it is.” Lyra squatted and pushed the tape into the VCR.

“What are you doing?” She glanced up at Fred as he bounced down the stairs. He cradled Ladon like a baby, Lyra could hear him purring as Fred scratched his stomach, Bean and Burrito followed him closely.

“Lyra’s putting on a mover.”

“Movie.” She corrected.

“Movie.” George blushed, “She’s showing me how the,” He glanced at Lyra, “TV works.” She nodded and he smiled.

“Right.” Fred sat next to his brother and the two dogs hopped next to him. “Go on then.” He cleared his throat and stared at the static screen. “Where’d you go this morning? After—”

Lyra flushed remembering how she woke up with him inside of her. “I went dress shopping, bought a few.” She pointed to the bags on the table, “You guys can help me choose one for the wedding. I got other stuff too, new quills.” She stood and let the previews play. Her cellphone rang and the twins jumped, “Can I have that?” George handed it to her and they both stared as she pressed the talk button and held it to her ear. “Hello?”

“What is she—” Fred stared at her.

“It’s a way to talk to Muggles.” George whispered and Lyra smiled and then frowned.

“I told you no Zion.” Lyra groaned, “You’re kidding me. It’s the end of July, Zion, shouldn’t they all be in Jamaica or Hawaii or—” The twins watched her as her frown deepened, “Well I just figured they be somewhere in the Hamptons again, or Miami. How was I supposed to— yeah, no, I know Zion... but I was in London and you all didn’t really write or email.” Lyra sighed and pressed the phone to her forehead in frustration as the boy continued to talk on the other end, “Zion, seriously. I’m leaving, like as soon as you hang up. Yeah I love you too.” She tossed her phone roughly and scratched her neck. “Well I guess there’s going to be a small get together. Some people are coming for a bit.” She smiled shyly, “They’re No-Maj’s, mostly.” The twins paled, “I’m sorry I didn’t know they’d be coming. And I kind of hate Ban for—”

“Why do you hate me now?” Ban stepped from the hall and patted Judas’s back when he stopped beside him.

“ _You_ called Zion.”

Ban scoffed, “He didn’t even want to talk to me.”

“Good to know. He’s on his way over.” Ban perked a bit, “With everyone else.” His face fell again. “Yeah, and _you’re_ going to deal with them, because _I_ don’t want to.” Lyra cocked her head and patted Ban’s chest as she passed him. “Carmen?” Lyra called and Fred and George jumped when she yelled.

“Who’s Zion and why does Lyra love him?” Fred raised and eyebrow and Ban laughed loudly.


	2. Chapter 2- The Lake House & The Burrow

"We could have stayed." Lyra frowned and dropped the twin's hands.

"I didn't want to. They're not really my _friends,_ most of them are just other wealthy people's childrens that we know because of our Uncles know their parents." Lyra rolled her eyes and strode up the gravel driveway. "Besides, what would you even talk about? The weather?" She chuckled, "Or even worse, me?"

"Where are we?" Asked Fred as he and George followed Lyra up the drive.

"Another one of our houses. We're still in New York through," she shoved the door open and smiled when she saw the lights were on in the kitchen. "Couple hours out of the city."

"This is the Lake House?"

"Yeah." She smiled, "Well, sort of, it's not really on a lake. It's like a marshy reservoir, but that's what my Uncle's have always called it. I'm pretty sure my sisters were the ones who..." She lead them into the kitchen, Lyra's smile slipped when there was no one to greet them, "Maybe they're in the living room or the Den? Game room maybe?" She walked down the hall, knocking on the bathroom door and frowning at the empty tub and flicked the light off. She went room by room, her frown deepened when she was met with more empty space. Lyra climbed the long staircase and stood her Uncle James' large, empty, bedroom for two clicks of the clock on the wall, then strode through the closet into a mirrored room belonging to her Uncle William. "It's so strange." She stepped into the hall, turned right and opened the only door at the end of the hall. She took the seven steps up and stood in a small living room, "All the lights are on though."

She knocked on two of the doors connected to the small room that didn't quite fit in with everything else in the home and sucked her teeth when there was no answer. Lyra tried the third door and groaned when it wouldn't open, "Alohomora." The door pulled open and the large metal door behind it slid to the left so she could step into the small panic room. She flipped through the many security camera feeds and frowned. "No one's here, why isn't anyone _here._ " She whispered and perused her lips. "Give me a second, okay? I'll be right back." Lyra turned on the spot and with a loud crack she was gone. Fred and George stood there, watching the small televisions, Lyra appeared in some of them, random ones around the screens. They watched her grow more and more frustrated until another crack spilt the room. "No one's in the guest house either. There's nobody here."

"Well couldn't your Uncle's still be in London."

"No. No you don't get it." She brought her hands up and clenched her fists in frustration, "We have live ins. Groundskeepers and Security a whole slew of people who live here, in these rooms." Lyra pointed to the two empty bedrooms and then stepped into the panic room to point to various screens, "We have landscapers and—and people who tend to the horses. They live in the guest house." She tapped her nail on the screen and shook her head, "But, no one is here."

"What does that mean?" Fred frowned and Lyra rushed back through the house. "Lyra?"

"I don't know George." She groaned, "Fred, I'm sorry. I just— my brain isn't..." Lyra sighed, "I checked the horses and their fine so, I mean... I don't know, they're still being fed and are looking better than ever. Tails should be braided but I mean—that doesn't matter!" She shook her head, "Maybe everyone just left at the same time?" She pushed her bedroom door open and the twins marveled at it.

There was a stark difference between this room and the one in the city. The walls were a dark teal and everywhere they looked there was color, opposed to the white's and creams of her other bedroom. This bedroom was smaller, lacking the adjoined living room, but was still grand. The ceilings were tall, but not as overly tall as the room in the city. Lyra's bed was large, it's leather headboard was wide, jutting feet out on either side of the bed and kissed the molding on the ceiling. A scene cast in bronze was painted onto the leather, with trees and storks, leaves falling from the trees and flowers that seemed to be blowing in a breeze. Fred and George followed the art on the leather up to the black ceiling and gaped at the pink crystal chandelier that illuminated the room warmly. The dark wood of the furniture and large doors made the room far more inviting than the other, her bedroom seemed almost clinical now. They turned slightly to take in more of her room as Lyra paced in front of her large desk. Through the open door was a large bathroom with a claw foot tub in front of a wall with arches on either side that lead into a dark tiled shower.

"What am I supposed to do?" She rummaged around on her large desk, pushing aside old textbooks and toppling over a cauldron and scales. "Shit." Lyra fanned a glistening powder as it was kicked up, "Maybe I shouldn't have told Ban to just go back to the Burrow after he entertained." Lyra scratched the back of her head and tried to right her mess. "Maybe I—"

"Maybe you should just calm down. Just take a breath."

"No. No, I just— this doesn't make sense." Lyra didn't know what she was looking for, what she would even be able to find in the mess of her old school books. She couldn't think of a single magical way to find out where her Uncles were. Lyra was never taught a location speed, couldn't track them, didn't think to give them something they could use to contact her. She had tried calling them all that morning while she was shopping, their cellphones the house phones, she even called the Hotels and bars they frequented without so much as a lead. There wasn't any logical explanation for why everyone in her home would have disappeared. Lyra scraped the nail of her thumb against her teeth as she paced. "Lorelei?" With a subtle crack her House Elf bowed into the room. "Lorelei, do you know what's going on? Where is everyone?"

"Lorelei does not know Mistress."

Lyra pinched the bridge of her nose, "But the horses—"

"The Keeper Wilson has been coming and going from the property for months now. Lorelei saw this, no one else Mistress."

"What do you mean no one else?"

"For months the Mistress' house has sat empty." The House Elf's voice squeaked and Lyra wiped her clammy hands off on her skirt as she squatted in front of the Elf.

"What are you talking about, Lorelei? What do you mean it's been empty for months?"

"Everyone has gone. The month of November was the last that Master William and Master James called to Lorelei. Lorelei returned to Missus' Maddison home to wait with the Squib named Carmen. Lorelei has not been called since."

"November?"

"Yes Mistress." The small creature looked towards Fred and George with her wide eyes.

"Do you remember anything Lorelei?"

"No Mistress. Lorelei was cleaning the Mistress's portrait in the Music Hall when Master James ordered Lorelei away."

"Portrait?" Lyra frowned, "My Mother's portrait?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Were there any guests Lorelei? Anyone you didn't know?"

"Lorelei would not like to assume the Master's thinking's. Lorelei was told to wait with the Squib Carmen. If Lorelei was sent away, Lorelei would understand that No-Maj were invited into my Mistress's home."

"Did my brother leave home yet?"

"Yes Mistress. Master Thuban dismissed all of the No-Maj's upon their arrival. Did not even let them in the home, Mistress. Had the Muggles tell them to leave." The small elf glanced back at the twins wearily when they shifted on the bed.

"Go to him, protect him."

"Lyra—"

"No, George." Lyra sighed, "Lorelei tell Ban what you told me, tell him I'll be there soon. Then tell Carmen to get the plane ready at JFK, once you've told her return to my brother and don't leave the Burrow."

"Yes, Mistress, it is Lorelei's pleasure to serve." She left with a crack and Lyra sighed.

"Aren't you over reacting?"

"Aren't you _under_ reacting?" She straighten and slapped her arms against her side, "Given everything that's happened this year, shouldn't you be at least a little more concerned when people just go missing?"

"Your Uncles' are _Muggles_ Lyra." She shook her head angrily and made her way down to the Music Hall. She swung the doors open and stood in the large room for a moment, breathing in the familiar smells. Lyra brushed her hand over the dustless piano and frowned.

"None of this makes sense, and you two are just blowing it off." Lyra turned away from them and stared up at the large portrait. A woman with long silver hair had her back arched over the arm of the throne she sat on. The woman tossed her hair over her shoulder with a sleepy groan and let it hang to the ground. She crossed her legs over the other arm, "Hi, Mom."

"Mom?" George frowned, the woman in the portrait could have been Lyra herself.

Lyra stepped towards the fireplace and stared up at the massive portrait. "Do you know what happened to my Uncles?" The woman straightened in the chair and her face split in a wide smile as she took in her daughter. Fred and George saw it then, her nose was wrong, her lips were too thin and her chin too pointed. Beautiful, but nowhere near as enchanting as her daughter.

"Lyra, gorgeous daughter of mine, it has been too long since you have visited me." Lyra swallowed the lump in her throat as her mother's portrait spoke, emphasizing her pronunciation of words through her heavy accent. "You have grown so much, moya lira." She cooed to her daughter as she sank to the floor of her portrait, she knelt to look down at Lyra, pressing her palm against the canvas to show her daughter how much she craves to touch her. "My beautiful little girl." Her Mother's voice gave Lyra chills, she always sounded so wounded, so completely sad, Lyra closed her eyes and swallowed her longing. "Oh, my child, do not weep for me." Her Mother's voice quivered, "What have you come for, moya lira, I know this hurts you so."

"Mom," Lyra's word broken and she took a steadying breath, "Do you know what happened to Uncle William and James?"

"No." Lyra let out a long breath and stared up at the portrait, her Mother had sat back on her heels and was staring past her. "My darling Lyra." She stood and circled to the back her chair, "Who have you brought with you. I do not know these men." Her mother scowled, "Where is my son?"

"He went back to England."

"I see." Her mother raked her eyes over Fred and George and then flickered her icy eyes to her daughter. "Introductions?"

"These are—"

"No." Her Mother circled her throne and sat regally with her chin raised. "I'm sure these fine men can speak for themselves, my sweet girl, please let them." She fixed the skirt of her dress and smiled, "Adyelya Peirs, Wife to Webster Piers, Mother of the late Alhena, Iota, Lyra and Thuban Piers, it is more than a pleasure to meet you."

"Fred Weasley, Ma'am." She seemed slightly affronted by the lack of poise and formal introduction by smiled nevertheless.

"George Weasley."

"Weasley." Her Mother cocked her head slightly and leant forward with her eyebrows raised, "Septimus Weasley?"

"Our Grandfather." Answered George.

"Moyata sladka Kasiopeya bi se usmikhnala na tozi sŭyuz." Her mother sucked her teeth and shook her head. "Poluks shte se tŭrkalya v groba mu." Her mother bit her thumb as she laughed.

"Maĭka." Lyra huffed.

"You must be her betrothed?" She stared at Fred and George rolled his eyes.

"Maĭka!" Lyra shouted, embarrassed.

"Tikho, moya lira." Lyra groaned and gestured for them to answer.

"No." Fred cleared his throat, "We're not engaged."

"Then you, certainly?"

"No." said George.

"Shame." Her mother sighed and Lyra watched the twins shift as they tried to suppress their smirks. "Ti izbra po-dobre ot men, moyata lira, _Purebloods_ i dvama ot tyakh!" Her mother tutted happily, "Takiva krasivi detsa shte napravite trimata." Her mother smiled widely, "Vŭpreki che te ne byakha tozi, koĭto izbrakh za teb." Lyra shifted her weight and smiled widely, "Radvam se za teb, moya lira." Adyelya cleared her throat, "You have my blessing boys, if you wish it. Permission to bed my Lyra." They glanced back at Lyra with wide eyes who chuckled against her fist. She tensed when the sound of Apparation sounded on the other side of the house.

"I bet that's Ban, Lori probably didn't know he wasn't on the plane and he popped up." Lyra groaned. "I'll be right back Mom." She patted the twins on their shoulders as she left and strode through the house towards the game room. "Ban?" Lyra called as she pulled the doors open wide, she frowned when there was no answer. "Ban. I told you to go to the Burrow, Lori said you left already." She frowned as her eyes swept over the empty room. Lyra gripped the banister called up the stairs for her brother again, his loud footsteps ceased and she smirked. "Thuban! This isn't funny." There was another loud crack and Lyra jumped. "Asshole!" She whined, a shadow cast down the staircase and she laughed, "Oh, so you answer to your true name, huh?" Lyra heard his footsteps coming closer and she smiled wider when he stepped onto the staircase behind. "Come on then Asshole." She slipped away from the stairs and back into the room with a laugh leading the way to the Music Room, "Mom's talking with Fred and George. I think she likes them, I mean her portrait does at least." Lyra frowned when her brother didn't answer, when she didn't hear him following her she groaned, "Just come say hi, then we can all leave together, and you can be an asshole all the way home."

"Such a stupid girl." A man chuckled and Lyra stared back at the stairs. More cracks split the room, four deafening sounds that made her heart race as she stared at the stranger in her home. People stomped down the stairs and stood behind one another, four men stared down at her as they flowed down the remaining stairs and spilled across the floor. A final crack and a petite woman stood in front of the men and cocked her head. Lyra couldn't find her breath as she backed further away from them, her hip hit into the billiards table and she held the edge as she stumbled around it.

"Who are you?" Her voice shook. "What do you want?" She studied the faces of four of the strangers, the men were older, tall and broad, all of them, save for the petite woman in an ivory mask. The more Lyra stared at it, she realized it could be porcelain. It resembled the blue and white pottery her Aunt Cassiopeia had loved, the filigree lifted in cobalt designs against the polished white mask. She stared at the hauntingly beautiful thing as the woman stalked Lyra, drawing her backwards to the door with every mirrored step. The design was sophisticated, intricate and unlike anything Lyra had ever seen, the swirls and delicate floral pattens were beautiful on their own, but when she took in the whole of the mask she took a small breath. The designs swirled together into a delegate skull. Lyra stumbled and righted herself on the chair she backed into, he glanced over her shoulder at the door.

"You've got a pretty price on your head my dear." A masked woman cocked her head, her voice sent a chill though Lyra's blood as she staggered up the three steps out of the room. She gripped her wand where it was secured to her hip, and the doors threw themselves shut and locked loudly as soon as she stepped over the threshold. Lyra walked backwards, slashing her wand through the air and cast a hasty barrier spell. It wasn't much but it gave her enough time to turn and run before the doors blew off their hinges.

"What are you waiting for!" The woman screeched, "Snatch her!" Lyra could hear their footsteps bounding after her as she ran through her home. She gripped her wand and flung the tip over her shoulder, aiming at anything and everything that could be used to slow them down. She sliced her wand through the air and dipped her head to force herself through everything as it fell around her. All of her Uncle's prized taxidermy, the bathroom doors, the portraits and cases fell away from the wall to block the wide hallway. Lyra ducked as a curtain rod swung towards her. She leapt to the right, slamming against the wall to evade the rod and stumbled along the wall at the loss of momentum. A man grunted and she ran forward, turning left towards the music hall, she waved her wand again as she skidded around the turn and watched as a closest door opened, smacking one of the men in the face, he roared in frustration as its contents spilled into the hall.

"Fred!" Lyra screamed as ran, she ducked as a spell whizzed past her ear and shattered a mirror down the hall. She held her wand, spun around and aimed a hex at the ceiling before retreating down the hall as the chandeliers fell, "George!" Lyra shot spells behind her and she heard a man grunt and fall to the floor. "Fred!" Her voice cracked as she screamed for them. Her eyes watered as fear welling inside of her for the twins. She pumped her arms faster, forced her legs to move faster towards the music room.

Fred and George all but fell out the room and sprinted towards her, aiming and firing colorful spells over her shoulder, she slid on the long runner rug that bunched under her feet and made her trip towards them. "This way!" She grabbed Fred and George's elbows and pulled as hard as she could to force them down the hall as they blocked the spells being thrown at them, "Come on!" She panted and waved her wand in a circle over her head, forcing everything in the home to be sent after their pursuers as they neared the front door. They were feet away when the large wood doors burst open, she threw her arms out to stop the twins and nearly slipped to the floor. Lyra watched the masked woman materialize from the noxious black smoke that consumed the exit and slithered its way through the open doors.

"Such a nuisance." The woman growled and stalked into the entry hall, raising her wand menacingly.

"Stupify!" Lyra shouted and the woman laughed coyly as she deflected it with an mere swat of her wand. Lyra stepped back and Fred and George raised their wands towards the woman.

"Now," She sighed heavily, "Come easy love." Lyra looked over her shoulder as the men who were knocked down found their footing and began to close in on them. "I've been ordered to keep you in one piece." Lyra gripped the twin's free hands and the Witch screamed as the men roared behind them and broke into sprints. She spun on her heel, pulling Fred and George with her as she Disapareated. The last thing she heard was the woman screaming her name.

The trio stumbled forward into her living room, "What the hell was that?" Fred shouted.

"I—I—" Lyra panted and braced herself on her knees, she held her stomach and tried to catch her breath and shook her head. "I d—don't know."

"Miss Lyra?" Carmen came from the kitchen at the sound of their Apparition. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Where's my brother?" Lyra straightened.

"He took the jet almost immediately after you left. Didn't even let his friends in, I made all those snacks for nothing."

"How long ago?"

"I'd say 'bout three hours, Dear."

"Lyra what's going on?" George scowled, "Who were all those bloody people? Why were they attacking us?"

"No idea." Lyra frowned, "But we have to go. Now."

"What do you mean?" Fred watched Lyra take two stairs at a time as she rushed to her bedroom. "Lyra!" He called after her and then Apparated to the top of the stairs as she ran into her room, "Lyra?"

"That woman, I—I don't know... she said I had a—a price. Like a— like some kind of _bounty._ " Lyra tore through her things, "We have to go. Get your things." The twins nodded and, without hesitation, began tossing their clothes back into their bags, "Do you think this will work from here? Or do I have to wait until we get to London." She held the small case containing the large cream button out to them.

"It's never been tested with this much distance before, Lyra." She stared at them.

"In the least, you could be splinched." Her arms were shaking as her fist closed around the case.

"You could die, Lyra. It's not smart." She nodded at Fred's words and waved her wand to finish packing everything for them. Clothes shot from her closet and packed themselves into suitcases.

"Lets go." She folded a few garment bags over her forearm and grabbed their hands when they picked up their luggage. She turned and, with a loud crack, they were on the tarmac in front of the jet.

"Bit of a warning next time." George groaned and held his head.

"Just us three." Lyra called to the crew as they boarded, "I'd like to go... now!" It took a ridiculous amount of time for them to take off, and only when the crew told her that she could take her seatbelt off did her breathing finally settle. "Excuse me?" Lyra motioned for one of the staff, "How long until London?"

"If all is going as planned, roughly seven hours Ma'am."

"Thank you." Lyra sat back against the seat and sighed.

"Would you care to tell us what happened?" George rubbed his thighs nervously as he leant towards her.

"I heard the loud crack... right? You heard it too."

"Yes."

"Well, obviously it wasn't Ban." She huffed a nervous laugh, "There was a man, then there was a bunch of men and..." her face pinched together as she shook her head, "that woman. The one wearing that strange mask. She said I had a price on me... they chased me and well you were there. And now we're here. Not much more to tell."

"What do you mean a price?" Fred frowned.

"What do you think, Fred." Lyra scowled. "She said and I quote, _you've got a pretty price on your head._ Now I'm no scholar, but I'd say that it's _pretty_ safe to assume that someone is paying to have me killed."

"She said they needed you in one piece." George offered and Lyra rubbed her forehead.

"Well, that's _so_ much better." She rolled her eyes and flopped against her seat, "Someone's paying for those people to _abduct_ me, so they could do the honors themselves. Thanks for that clarification George, but is there _really_ that big of a difference?" Lyra huffed and sank further into her seat, she rested her head on her hand and closed her eyes while the twins stared at her.

❧

Lyra groaned when she Apparated, knee deep, in the marsh near the Weasley's home and raised her garment bags higher as she fumbled for her wand. "Why couldn't we just go home?" Lyra sloshed through the murky water to follow the twins in the dark, she flicked her wand and levitated her luggage and bags.

"Because it's safer here, Lyra." Huffed Fred.

"How?" She groaned, "How could it _possibly_ be safer?"

"The Order is adding enchantments as we speak." Answered George, "There's a plan Lyra. Just trust us."

"With my life." Lyra sighed and rolled her eyes as she stepped from the waters and charmed herself dry. Mrs. Weasley was at the door to greet them and Lyra caught sight of Lorelei who fidgeted nervously behind her.

"I felt you come through, clock said you were home boys." Said Mrs. Weasley with a smile as she secured her dressing gown tighter around her, "Lyra, dear, good to see you." Lyra accepted the hug and returned the smile.

"You too Mrs. Weasley, sorry for coming so early. Thank you for having me... again."

"Nonsense. You're family." She smiled at her sons and waved a had to dismiss any arguments. "Family is always welcome, your brother is upstairs." She glanced down, "And this—" She was at a loss for words and Lyra chuckled as Mrs. Weasley led them into her home. "I've forgotten it's name."

"Lorelei." Lyra chuckled and glanced at the small creature. She wore an piece of an old, discarded, curtain as a smock and Lyra couldn't help but feel a little bad at how poorly she was dressed.

Lyra sat sat on the empty sofa and leant forward so she was closer to eye level with the small House Elf, "Could you go protect Carmen and the others, on Maddison? If you would, retrieve my mother's portrait, please. If you do, store it in my bedroom at Maddison, if you wouldn't mind." Lyra glanced up as Hermione, Ron and Thuban stumbled down the stairs and into the room, all dressed for bed. "Please protect the home, I think people might have gone there already. If the home is in shambles, make sure everyone is alright and then come here at once."

"Of course Mistress Lyra, it is an honor to serve you." Lorelei bowed and then disappeared in a blink.

"How awful." Lyra frowned up at Hermione. "How could you subject a creature into slavery?"

"Excuse me? How _dare_ you." Lyra narrowed her eyes as she stood, visibly offended. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Easy Lala." Ban brushed a hand through his hair and sighed.

Lyra cocked her head, "I was just attacked barely seven hours ago, and asked _my_ House Elf to make sure the people who work for _me_ and live in _my_ home were okay and alive." She crossed her arms, "What exactly is awful about it?"

"She can't say no to you, she—she doesn't have a choice!"

"Of course she does." Lyra frowned, "I asked if she could, I didn't tell her she had to. Nothing I said was a direct order, it was all based on if she desired to do it." Hermione's face reddened. "I rarely ever tell _my_ House Elf to do anything. The only think I demand is to either wash or change that—that _thing_ she wears." Lyra glanced at Thuban who shifted uncomfortably. "Mom says hi, by the way." He smiled shyly.

"Your mother?" Hermione frowned, "You told me she died, that—"

"Yes, obviously she's dead Hermione!" Lyra sighed, exhausted, and looked back to her brother. "I asked her portrait if there was anything she could tell me about our Uncle's disappearance. Lori was more help then she was. All she wanted to to was talk about these two." Lyra held her head and Fred stood beside her and rubbed her back. "Sorry, I'm just... jet lagged. What time is it?"

"Just after one."

"When did you get here?"

"Almost eleven I think. Haven't been here that long, really."

"Long enough." Groaned Ron quietly.

Ban ignored his friend and pushed his sleeves up his arms as Lyra sat back against the sofa and rubbed her forehead. "You look worse for wear."

"We were attacked." Said George as he offered Lyra a cup of tea, she smiled so warmly up at him that the other's in the room blushed.

"What?"

"At the Lake House." Lyra nodded and then took a drink of the steaming tea, "Was talking to Mom and then I heard someone Apparate. Thought it was you being a punk, but I was wrong." She shrugged and sipped the tea again, "A man was there at first and then there were more, five maybe? More could have showed up as I ran, and there was a woman in a mask."

"They were after Lyra." George added.

"Oh Dear." Mrs. Weasley gasped, "I'll inform Arthur." She scurried up the stairs.

Lyra couldn't stop her hands from shaking as she pushed her hair from her face, "I'm fine." She snapped when George squeezed her hand, "I'm sorry, I— I just need some sleep. This whole London to New York to here, times a bit—" she chuckled, "muddled I guess." She drank the rest of her tea and then stood slowly.

"Come on then. Let's get you to bed." She glanced at the twins as they each tried to lead her up the stairs and laughed, everyone else shifted uncomfortably.

"Hermione?" She glanced at the bushy haired witch and shrugged, "You in Ginny's room?" Hermione nodded slowly, "Know where the other cots are?" She shook her head. "Guess Gin's going to wake up with a bedmate." She chucked and kissed Fred and George on their cheeks. "At least I can sleep with one Weasley tonight." She smiled and Fred groaned, "I don't think your Mom would appreciate me sleeping in either of your beds. Or would we transfigured them together?" Ron flushed and Ban looked a bit sick, he winced and pressed the heel of his palm between his brows as he sucked in a painful breath.

"Shut up! Both of you!." He groaned, rolled his eyes, and then started up towards the attic, following Ron back to his bedroom. "Immature..." he grumbled, "...perverts." Lyra glared at them over her shoulder as she followed Hermione to Ginny's room. They each gave her backside a squeeze before they slipped into their room.

❧

Lyra woke up with Ginny wrapped around her, she chuckled lightly and Ginny groaned and snuggled closer to her shoulder. "Gin." Lyra laughed, "Hermione?" Lyra chuckled again when Ginny nuzzled against her chest and pressed their bodies closer together.

"What?" Hermione groaned and sat up.

"Get a load of Gin." She couldn't stop her fit of giggles and Ginny groaned again. "Ginny... come on now," She pulled on her friends hand and Ginny squeezed her, "release."

"What are you doing in my bed Lyra." Ginny huffed groggily and squeezed her hip as she adjusted her head on Lyra's chest. "When did you get here?" She mumbled.

"Late last night, 'bout one." Lyra tried to stop her laughing and Ginny groaned again. "Did you expect me to sleep on the ground?"

Ginny pouted, "No." Lyra smiled to and turned on her side when her friend finally released her. "It's okay... you're comfy." Lyra rolled her eyes, "Did you find your Uncles?"

"No."

"Oh," said Ginny sleepily with her eyes still closed, "Sorry." She yawned into her pillow.

"I got attacked though."

"What?" Ginny peaked an eye open and knitted her eyebrows together, "Attacked? By Muggles?"

Lyra shook her head slowly, "Bunch of Wizards and Witches in trench coats and black smoke." Lyra smiled and scrunched her nose, "Creepy little masks. Almost did me in honestly."

"Wow." She was waking up fully and Lyra stood to give Ginny enough space to stretch. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Yeah, Fred and George were there too, met my Mom. Pretty crazy." Lyra cleared her throat and Ginny blinked and cocked her head questionably. "The music room in our lake house has a large portrait of my mother, it was finished a month or so after Ban and I were born... right before she died." Lyra chuckled, "Surprised she was there actually, she's usually in the one in the crypt, in the portrait she shares with my Father. Before my Aunt Cassiopeia passed, she told me that Mom used to visit the portrait that was in her home too." Lyra bit the inside of her cheek.

"Crypt?" Hermione frowned as Lyra sat on the small cot beside her.

"Yeah... yeah, our family crypt. Well, my Mother's family crypt... technically. It's from her side, but my Father is there because well, obviously, he married my Mom. But it's tradition for portraits to be placed in the crypt upon their death. Lucky for my Dad that she made him get one done with her. Takes years to perfect it I guess."

"Do you have a portrait?"

"Of course." Lyra scoffed, "We've had portraits painted of us since we were eleven. We're due for an update actually."

"You're crazy." Ginny laughed.

"Well, I could die in a car accident, or from food poisoning, my Mom's family is just being thoroughly cautious. They'll probably send someone near Christmas, I wouldn't be surprised if I get an owl tomorrow telling me when he'll be arriving." Lyra frowned, "And then I have to spend time with it," she shook her head, "It's so weird talking to yourself." She sighed and Ginny finally climbed out of bed, "Do either of you have one?"

"No." They said in unison and Lyra laughed.

"Expected." She stretched and chuckled to herself, "Maybe I should have Fred and George join me for my new one." Lyra could feel the heat pulse in her cheeks and smirked a bit as she thought of the three of them living the rest of their lives together. "Do you think they would do it? Should I ask them?"

"Isn't that a bit... morbid? Planning a portrait for when you die?" Hermione frowned as she tugged a pair of jeans on.

"I don't think so." Lyra adjusted her skirt over her knees and shrugged, "Do you think having a Last Will is morbid?" Hermione's mouth popped closed, "It's more of a precaution, it's a "just in case," you know? Because no one truly knows what life could throw at you." Lyra laid back on the bed so Ginny could move around her small room better. "I'm grateful my parents had their portraits made, so at least I could know them. I get to experience their love without having to live my life wondering what they sounded like or what advice they would give." Lyra wiped a silent tear from her cheek when the girls weren't looking. "The portraits are just paint and memory, but... they're them, they're _there_. Because of magic I can experience their love. Because of this tradition I can hear their voices, and it's— it just makes it a little less hard."

"I didn't think of it like that." said Hermione in a small voice.

"I don't think many people do." Lyra smiled gently at Hermione, "And not all portraits are the same— obviously." Lyra held her locket in her hand, "And even pictures and videos aren't the same. My parent's portraits can answer me, talk to me— to Fred and George," Lyra glanced at Ginny and she smiled, "They got to meet my Mother and she got to meet them and now I'll never have to wonder if she would like them. Because I _know._ " Lyra nodded, "So, no. I don't think it's morbid, I think it's beautiful and responsible to leave an echo of who you are. So those who might grieve for you can still have a part of you, besides the already made memories or pictures or videos that just repeat what has already happened." Lyra wiped another tear and smiled wider as she huffed a nervous laugh. "Got a little too heavy there huh?" She stood slowly and rubbed her thumb against her locket as she wiped her face again, "Alright then... breakfast?"

Ban was already at the table when Lyra made her way into the kitchen, he was grumbling to himself as he stared down at his porridge. Lyra grabbed a blueberry muffin and raised and eyebrow as she sat across from him. "You good?" He raised his eyes slowly to his sister as she bit into her muffin.

"Takiva krasivi detsa shte napravite trimata..." Lyra choked and Ban scowled back at his porridge. "I can't believe she—" he let out an exasperated breath, "Mom's just— and then she—" Thuban's face reddened and he ate so he didn't have to talk.

"You didn't tell them what she said, right?"

"No." He grumbled and spooned the porridge in his mouth. "She could have at least _pretended_ to not like them."

"Like you do?"

"I don't— I'm not—" Ban groaned and ate some more, "It's hard not to like them when they're so _open._ " Ban shivered when the twins bounded down the stairs and each kissed her chastely on her lips. "Too open." Ban whispered and winced.

"Guys. I told you to lock it up around him. It's not fair and I don't like it when Ban's uncomfortable. Even if he is an ass most of the time."

"Sorry." Fred and George deflated and Ban let out a relieved breath, his shoulders relaxed as the twins shut him out.

"Thank you." Groaned Ban through gritted teeth.

"A revolutionary moment—" chuckled George as he took a muffin from the basket.

"Surely we have to write the Quibbler about such a rare occurrence!"

"Enough." Lyra groaned, "Now you're giving _me_ a head ache." Lyra laughed, "Just, play nice... please, since you three might be the only men left in my life." Ban's spoon froze as he went to take a bite.

"You don't mean that. You don't know what happened, they really could just be on an island somewhere, sitting on a beach with girls half their age."

"I don't know Ban, Lori said—"

"She told me that she was dismissed because they had some No-Maj's over." He shook his head and finished his bite, "She's, I don't know, what? Four hundred and something?" Lyra shook her head, "She's bound to forget or over analyze or—" Ban swiped a hand through his unkempt hair, "I wouldn't put much behind her memory, Lala." Ban looked to Ron as he flopped sleepily into a chair and poured sugar over his porridge. "How old is Kreacher."

"How would I know?" Ron questioned with his mouth full, "At least five or six hundred. Creepy little—" he glanced up at Hermione and Ginny as they joined them for breakfast, "All I know is he's served the Black family all his life, all of those prejudiced, Pure-Blood, Slytherin prats." He ate quickly, "That was until Sirius died, he's Harry's now. Sirius left everything to Harry."

❧

Everyone at the Burrow seemed to tiptoe around Lyra and Thuban as the day stretched on. Fred and George did their best not to be alone with her, which was more than out of character. "Gin?" Ginny looked up from her book, Fred and George's heads snapped towards her from where they sat in the kitchen. "Can you tell me what's going on?" Lyra crossed her arms and Ginny's eyes flicked around the room so she wouldn't have to look Lyra in the eye.

"Yeah. I've never had you all so quiet. All of you always crack a bit, slipping up here an there, and today?" Ban stood beside his sister and shoved his hands in his pockets with a shrug, "None of you want to share today? Apparently we've got a room of vaults here little sister." Lyra glanced at Fred and George who shifted in their chair and avoided her eyes. "If I press, you _will_ crack. And it _will_ be... uncomfortable... though that may be an understatement."

"Just tell us!" Lyra whined, "Hermione and Ron have been avoiding us, all of you have, even your parents. Can't you just tell us? Did something happen?" Lyra pinched her lip and took a deep breath, "Did something happen to my Uncle's and you wont tell me?" She looked back at George and Fred and held her locket, their eyes followed her hand as she gripped it over her heart, "I'm a big girl, you can tell me if—" Lyra tried to stop herself from getting worked up, "—if they're—"

"No." Fred shook his head and stood slowly to embrace Lyra, "No, we'd never keep that from you. It's not about your Uncles'."

"Then who died?" Ban nodded slowly," Someone died, right?"

"No it's—" Fred looked over his shoulder to his brother and then glanced at Ginny, "—we can't tell you. Please, it's just—" Fred rubbed Lyra's arm and dipped his head so she would look him in the eye, "It's for safety. I'll tell you tonight, once it's done. I'll tell you everything. I promise," he glanced at Ginny, "or if you can't wait that long Ginny will tell you once it starts. Okay?" Lyra nodded and Fred pulled her to his chest. "Everything's okay, but this is something we _have_ to do and we can't have you there. How could George and I focus if we're too busy thinking about you."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Nothing you haven't been through before." Fred tucked her hair behind her ear and Ban glanced away as they kissed, "We'll be safe and back before you know it."

"It's time boys." Mr. Weasley stood in the doorway and checked his watch, "Quickly now. Where's your brother? Hermione?"

"Here." Hermione bounded down the stairs followed by Ron.

"Perfect, perfect, well then." Lyra had never seen Mr. Weasley this nervous before, she glanced at the six people who stood near the door and noticed the fear in their eyes despite their brave faces.

"George?' Lyra held her locket tightly, "I just—"

"I love you too." He winked and Fred hit his brother's shoulder.

"That's my line." Fred scoffed, Lyra reddened when Mr. Weasley glanced her way, but then his attention was captured by his wife. Lyra was pulled into a crushing hug from Fred and George, she stroked their cheeks tenderly as she stared up at them.

"Be safe okay? I love you." Her locket clicked open and the twins smiled widely. "Please. Please," She nodded slowly to mirror their agreement, "I don't understand what's going on, but— _please_ be safe." Mrs. Weasley took Lyra's hand as they watched the group head towards the gate, the woman trembled as she stared after them, and Lyra squeezed her hand tightly. "They know what they're doing right?"

"Yes, Dear."

"Then they'll be safe?"

"Of course." Mrs. Weasley's trembling voice betrayed her words as she watched her family Dissaparate just beyond the gate. Lyra stayed in the doorway well after she was sure they were gone, "Come on, Dear. I've made us some tea." Lyra nodded and let Mrs. Weasley lead her to a chair, she glanced from the cup and stared at Ginny.

"Tell me what's going on, Gin." The cup clinked against the table and Lyra let out a steadying breath, "Now."


	3. Chapter 3- The Dark Lord Ascending

The dark drawing room was full of silent people, sitting at his long, elegantly crafted table. The room's usual furniture were pushed carelessly up against the walls and Draco tried to train his eyes to the edge of the table. Rather than look around the room. Illumination came from a roaring fire beneath the vast marble mantelpiece surmounted by a gilded mirror, he could feel the sweat pooling at the nape of his neck from the heat. Draco rolled his shoulders slightly, in attempts to get more comfortable in the stifling room, his eyes drifted to the reflection on the table and then up to it's source, then trained back to the edge of the table.

The large door opened and Draco felt as if the room exhaled as Snape and Yaxley lingered on the threshold. He studied them for a moment as the two men stood there, unmoving, and then Draco's gaze was drawn upward again, to the strangest feature in the majestic room: an unconscious woman hanging upside down over the table, revolving slowly as if suspended by an invisible rope, and she was reflected in the polished surface of the table below. None of the other people seated underneath the woman seemed to even notice her aside from Draco, they all sat quietly, indifferent to the display. He glanced at the reflection again and then back up to the woman who spun slowly in either direction, before trying to fix his gaze on the edge of the table again.

"Yaxley. Snape," said a high, clear voice from the head of the table. "You are very nearly late."

The speaker was seated at the head of the table, the fireplace on his right threw an intimidating shadow across the room as it's flame fluttered. Snape and Yaxley drew nearer, and Draco glanced to his professor and then to the man, if that is what you could have called him, who spoke. The man's face shone through the gloom of the opulent room of Draco's home, hairless, snakelike, with slits for nostrils and gleaming red eyes whose pupils were vertical. He was so pale that he seemed to emit a pearly glow; Draco tried to wet his drying mouth.

"Severus, here," said The Dark Lord, indicating the seat on his immediate right. "Yaxley— beside Dolohov."

The two men took their allotted places. Most of the eyes around the table followed Snape, and it was to him that The Dark Lord spoke first.

"So?"

"My Lord, the Order of the Phoenix intends to move Harry Potter from his current place of safety on Saturday next, at nightfall." Draco swallowed the lump in his throat and focused on Snape rather than the body that slowly revolved, directly in front of him. He glanced at his mother who stared ahead of her, stoic and indifferent, and then to his father who seemed to be quaking internally, his sallow skin was dampening as he sat stiffly in the seat the Dark Lord had chosen for him. Draco focused back on Snape as the interest around the table sharpened palpably: some stiffened and straightened in their seats, others fidgeted, all gazing focused on Snape and The Dark Lord.

"Saturday... at nightfall," repeated The Dark Lord. His red eyes fastened upon Snape's black ones with such intensity that some of the watchers looked away, apparently fearful that they themselves would be scorched by the ferocity of the gaze. Draco watched, unmoving, as Snape looked calmly back into The Dark Lord's face and, after a moment or two, The Dark Lords's lipless mouth curved into something like a smile. Draco repressed a shiver that seemed to overtake his father for a moment.

"Good. Very good. And this information comes—"

"—from the source we discussed," said Snape.

"My Lord." Yaxley leaned forward to look down the long table at The Dark Lord and Snape. All faces turned to him, Draco simply moved his eyes, not wanting to draw attention to himself or his family. "My Lord, I have heard differently." Yaxley waited, but The Dark Lord did not speak, so he went on, "Dawlish, the Auror, let slip that Potter will not be moved until the thirtieth, the night before the boy turns seventeen."

Draco looked towards Snape, who was smiling. "My source told me that there are plans to lay a false trail; this must be it. No doubt a Confundus Charm has been placed upon Dawlish. It would not be the first time; he is known to be susceptible."

"I assure you," Draco's eyes snapped from Snape, briskly glanced at the twirling woman and then settled on Yaxley as he continued, "my Lord, Dawlish seemed quite certain—"

"If he has been Confunded, naturally he is certain," said Snape, and Draco's attention flickered back to his Professor. "I assure you, Yaxley, the Auror Office will play no further part in the protection of Harry Potter. The Order believes that we have infiltrated the Ministry." Finished Snape in his usual monotoned, indifferent manor.

"The Order's got one thing right, then, eh?" said a squat man sitting a short distance from Yaxley; he gave a wheezy giggle that was echoed here and there along the table, Draco did not laugh, didn't dare make a sound; his gaze once again flickered to the woman and then focused on the edge of the table until he glanced back at Snape who looked towards The Dark Lord. Draco couldn't help himself, he held his breath as he looked at the pale man. The Dark Lord did not laugh. His gaze had wandered upward to the body revolving slowly overhead, and he seemed to be lost in thought. Draco once again found himself looking at the unconscious woman until his stomach curdled and he forced himself to stare at the edge of the table.

"My Lord," Yaxley went on, "Dawlish believes an entire party of Aurors will be used to transfer the boy—"

The Dark Lord held up a large white hand, and Yaxley subsided at once, watching resentfully as The Dark Lord turned back to Snape. "Where are they going to hide the boy next?"

"At the home of one of the Order," said Snape and Draco dragged his eyes back towards him. "The place, according to the source, has been given every protection that the Order and Ministry together could provide. I think that there is little chance of taking him once he is there, my Lord, unless, of course, the Ministry has fallen before next Saturday, which might give us the opportunity to discover and undo enough of the enchantments to break through the rest."

"Well, Yaxley?" The Dark Lord called down the table, the firelight glinting strangely in his red eyes. "Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?" Once again, all heads turned. Yaxley squared his shoulders.

"My Lord, I have good news on that score. I have— with difficulty, and after great effort— succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse." Many of those sitting around Yaxley looked impressed; his neighbor, Dolohov, a man with a long, twisted face, clapped him on the back.

"It is a start," said The Dark Lord. "But Thicknesse is only one man. Scrimgeour must be surrounded by our people before I act. One failed attempt on the Minister's life will set me back a long way."

"Yes— my Lord, that is true— but you know, as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Thicknesse has regular contact not only with the Minister himself, but also with the Heads of all the other Ministry departments. It will, I think, be easy now that we have such a high-ranking official under our control, to subjugate the others, and then they can all work together to bring Scrimgeour down."

"As long as our friend Thicknesse is not discovered before he has converted the rest," said The Dark Lord. "At any rate, it remains unlikely that the Ministry will be mine before next Saturday. If we cannot touch the boy at his destination, then it must be done while he travels."

"We are at an advantage there, my Lord," said Yaxley, who seemed determined to receive some portion of approval, Draco tried his best to keep his eyes forward, but found himself staring at the reflection until his mouth soured. "We now have several people planted within the Department of Magical Transport. If Potter Apparates or uses the Floo Network, we shall know immediately."

"He will not do either," said Snape. "The Order is eschewing any form of transport that is controlled or regulated by the Ministry; they mistrust everything to do with the place."

"All the better," said The Dark Lord, Draco snapped out of his trance and looked to Snape again. "He will have to move in the open. Easier to take, by far." Again, The Dark Lord looked up at the slowly revolving body as he went on, "I shall attend to the boy in person. There have been too many mistakes where Harry Potter is concerned." Draco's palms were wet and he tried to dry them on his thighs without moving too much, "Some of them have been my own. That Potter lives is due more to my errors than to his triumphs."

The company around the table watched The Dark Lord apprehensively, each of them, by his or her expression, afraid that they might be blamed for Harry Potter's continued existence. Draco glanced at his father, who looked as if he were crawling deeper and deeper into himself. The Dark Lord, however, seemed to be speaking more to himself than to any of them, still addressing the unconscious body twirling above Draco.

"I have been careless," said The Dark Lord after a pause, "and so have been thwarted by luck and chance, those wreckers of all but the best-laid plans. But I know better now. I understand those things that I did not understand before. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter, and I shall be." Draco could feel himself paling as The Dark Lord mentioned killing Harry. Where there was Harry, there was Ron, and where there was Ron, Thuban was close behind, and beside him was Lyra, _Always the attentive and overbearing brother._ Draco's lip curled slightly at the thought. _His_ Lyra, she'd be there, she was always were she wasn't supposed to be. Draco could feel the warmth and color pooling back into him as he thought of her, a the memory of her lips ghosting over his as she told him she loved him. The air was pulled form his lugs when a sudden wail sounded, a terrible, drawn-out cry of misery and pain filled the room. Many of those at the table looked downward, startled, for the sound had seemed to issue from below their feet.

"Wormtail," said The Dark Lord, with no change in his quiet, thoughtful tone, and without removing his eyes from the revolving body above, "have I not spoken to you about keeping our prisoner quiet?"

"Yes, m-my Lord," gasped a small man halfway down the table, who had been sitting so low in his chair that it had appeared, at first glance, to be unoccupied. Now, he scrambled from his seat and scurried from the room, leaving nothing behind him but a curious gleam of silver.

"As I was saying," continued The Dark Lord, looking again at the tense faces of his followers, Draco's eyes fell to the edge of the table when he saw the gleam in the man's red eyes. "I understand better now. I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter."

The faces around him displayed nothing but shock; he might have announced that he wanted to borrow one of their arms. Draco's mouth dried and he glanced up at Snape and then his mother, and then finally to his father before settling on the table again.

"No volunteers?" said The Dark Lord. "Let's see... Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore." Draco froze and stared at his father.

Lucius Malfoy looked up. His skin appeared yellowish and waxy in the firelight, and his eyes were sunken and shadowed. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and Draco tried to wipe his sweaty palms on his thighs with minimal movement. "My Lord?"

"Your wand, Lucius. I require your wand."

"I..." He watched his father glanced sideways at his wife. Draco's mother was staring straight ahead, quite as pale as he was, her long blonde hair hanging down her back, but beneath the table her slim fingers closed briefly on his wrist. At her touch, Draco's father put his hand into his robes, withdrew a wand, and passed it along to The Dark Lord, who held it up in front of his red eyes, examining it closely.

"What is it?"

"Elm, my Lord," whispered Draco's father.

"And the core?"

"Dragon— dragon heartstring."

"Good," said Voldemort. He drew out his own wand and compared the lengths. Draco's father made an involuntary movement; for a fraction of a second, it seemed he expected to receive Voldemort's wand in exchange for his own. The gesture was not missed by The Dark Lord, whose eyes widened maliciously, Draco stared at the woman hanging in front of him and tried to retreat into his mind. He thought of Lyra, of how she would look bound to his bed and shifted awkwardly on the chair, adjusting his trousers and cursing himself silently.

"Give you my wand, Lucius? My wand?" Some of the throng sniggered. "I have given you your liberty, Lucius, is that not enough for you? But I have noticed that you and your family seem less than happy of late... What is it about my presence in your home that displeases you, Lucius?"

"Nothing— nothing, my Lord!" Draco tried to steady his breathing and calm his racing heart as it dared to beat out of his chest. He thought of Lyra, how she felt against his chest as they read books in his bed. Thought of how she leant against him on the bank of the Great Lake, how she hovered over him in the Hospital Wing as the old medical Witch healed his wounds.

"Such lies, Lucius..." The soft voice seemed to hiss on even after the cruel mouth had stopped moving. One or two of the Wizards barely repressed a shudder as the hissing grew louder; something heavy could be heard sliding across the floor beneath the table.

The huge snake emerged to climb slowly up The Dark Lord's chair. It rose, seemingly endlessly, and came to rest across The Dark Lords' shoulders: it's neck the thickness of a man's thigh; it's eyes, with their vertical slits for pupils, unblinking. The Dark Lord stroked the creature absently with long thin fingers, still looking at Draco's Father. Draco tried to swallow the lump in his throat and blinked up at the unconscious woman and she turned.

"Why do the Malfoys look so unhappy with their lot? Is my return, my rise to power, not the very thing they professed to desire for so many years?"

"Of course, my Lord," said Draco's father. His hand shook as he wiped sweat from his upper lip. "We did desire it— we do." Beside him, Draco's mother made an odd, stiff nod, her eyes averted from The Dark Lord and the snake. Draco, blinked away from the inert body overhead, glanced quickly at The Dark Lord and away again, terrified to make eye contact, so he focused on the edge of the table again and thought of running his fingers through Lyra's hair.

"My Lord," said a dark woman halfway down the table, her voice constricted with emotion, "it is an honor to have you here, in our family's house. There can be no higher pleasure." Draco leant forward the slightest amount to stare at his Aunt. She sat beside his Mother, as unlike her in looks, with her dark hair and heavily lidded eyes, as she was in bearing and demeanor; where his mother sat rigid and impassive, Bellatrix leaned toward The Dark Lord, for mere words could not demonstrate her longing for closeness.

"No higher pleasure," repeated The Dark Lord, his head tilted a little to one side as he considered Bellatrix. "That means a great deal, Bellatrix, from you."

Her face flooded with color; her eyes welled with tears of delight. "My Lord knows I speak nothing but the truth!" Draco's stomach clenched.

"No higher pleasure... even compared with the happy event that, I hear, has taken place in your family this week?"

She stared at him, her lips parted, evidently confused. "I don't know what you mean, my Lord." Draco did, and his heart stopped at it's mention.

"I'm talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the Werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud."

There was an eruption of jeering laughter from around the table. Many leaned forward to exchange gleeful looks; a few thumped the table with their fists. The great snake, disliking the disturbance, opened its mouth wide and hissed angrily, but the Death Eaters did not hear it, so jubilant were they at Bellatrix and the Malfoys' humiliation. Draco wanted to sink into the floor, Bellatrix's face, so recently flushed with happiness, had turned an ugly, blotchy red.

"She is no niece of ours, my Lord," she cried over the outpouring of mirth. "We— Narcissa and I— have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries."

"What say you, Draco?" asked The Dark Lord, and though his voice was quiet, it carried clearly through the catcalls and jeers. "Will you babysit the cubs?"

The hilarity mounted; Draco stared at his father and tried his best not to shake, his father was staring down into his own lap, Draco caught his mother's eye. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, then resumed her own deadpan stare at the opposite wall. Draco gave a single shake of his head and then mirrored his mother. "No," breathed The Dark Lord, "Werewolves happen to be the wrong _creature_ our young Draco desires to care for." There was more snickering and a wolf whistle that made Draco's blood boil. "Enough," said The Dark Lord, stroking the angry snake. "Enough." And the laughter died at once. "Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time," he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring. "You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest."

"Yes, my Lord," whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. "At the first chance!"

"You shall have it," said The Dark Lord. "And in your family, so in the world... we shall cut away the canker that infects us until only those of the true blood remain..." Draco's head swam and his stomach sank while his heart fluttered with thoughts of Lyra. There was a brief incline to the Dark Lord's chin when Draco glanced his way, an unspoken acceptance of his choice in bride, and Draco's body relaxed at the reassurance. The Dark Lord wanted this union desperately, almost as much as Draco's need; he adjusted his trousers slightly.

The Dark Lord raised Lucius Malfoy's wand, pointed it directly at the slowly revolving figure suspended over the table, and gave it a tiny flick. The figure came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds.

"Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked The Dark Lord.

Snape raised his eyes to the upside-down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as though they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!"

"Ah, yes," said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again.

"And you, Draco?" asked Voldemort, stroking the snake's snout with his wand-free hand. No longer bathing in the relaxation the Dark Lord's acceptance gave him, Draco shook his head jerkily and stared at the edge of the table. Now that the woman had woken, he didn't dare to look at her anymore.

"But you would not have taken her classes," said The Dark Lord. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

There were small noises of comprehension around the table. A broad, hunched woman with pointed teeth cackled.

"Yes... Professor Burbage taught the children of Witches and Wizards all about Muggles... how they are not so different from us..."

One of the Death Eaters spat on the floor. Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape again. "Severus . . . please . . . please . . ."

"Silence," said The Dark Lord, with another twitch of Draco's Father's wand, Charity Burbage fell silent as if gagged. Draco remembered doing something similar to Lyra, and images of her nude beneath him flickered across his mind. He closed his eyes for a few heartbeats until he calmed and then continued to stare at the edge of the table. "Not content with corrupting and polluting the minds of Wizarding children, last week Professor Burbage wrote an impassioned defense of Mudbloods in the Daily Prophet. Wizards, she says, must accept these thieves of their knowledge and magic. The dwindling of the PureBloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance....She would have us all mate with Muggles... or, no doubt, Werewolves...." Draco held his breath and waited for the Dark Lord to say it, to call out the disgrace being Veela. To mock how Draco intended on tainting the Malfoy line. But it didn't come, he was met with only pregnant silence as the woman spun slowly, and whimpered soundlessly.

Nobody laughed at the mention of Werewolves: there was no mistaking the anger and contempt in The Dark Lords' voice. For the third time, Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape, tears were pouring from her eyes into her hair. Snape looked back at her, quite impassive, as she turned slowly away from him again.

"Avada Kedavra."

The flash of green light illuminated every corner of the room. Charity fell, with a resounding crash, onto the table below, which trembled and creaked. Several of the Death Eaters leapt back in their chairs. Draco fell out of his onto the floor.

"Dinner, Nagini," said Voldemort softly, and the great snake swayed and slithered from his shoulders onto the polished wood. Draco couldn't blink as he struggled back towards the fireplace. The large snake opened its mouth, wider and wider and wider, until the woman's shoulders where being pulled deeper into it's mouth.

"Draco." Hissed his mother as she helped him to his feet. He glanced around the room as the other Death Eaters seemed to disperse, his Aunt Bellatrix seemed absolutely fascinated by the horrific scene in front of them. "Come, Draco." He followed his mother as she lead him from the Drawing Room.


	4. Chapter 4- Seven Potters & A Fallen Warrior

Lyra sat with her lips parted and jaw slacked as Ginny informed her of what the others went to do. "Mad-Eye has a plan, Lyra, to get Harry out safely... before the protection enchantment breaks." Her stomach tied itself into a knot the more Ginny carried on, "They'll all fly off in pairs, one of whom will be disguised as Harry and then will come here by port key. It'll throw You-Know-Who off their trail, there have been so many homes fortified that they won't know here to look for him." Lyra glanced at her brother who paced in the living room as be chewed the pad of his thumb.

"We could have helped." Said Ban angrily, Lyra gave a dry laugh.

"Risk my life again for Harry? I'm good." She held the warm mug and stared at the steam as it rose from it, "If I had it my way Fred and George wouldn't have left."

"But—"

"I know Gin. The Chosen One, the Prophecy, yadda yadda yadda—" Lyra rolled her eyes, "Selfish." She spat, "Harry's selfish." She shook her head slowly and her lip quivered, "Them too. George an— and Fred they're selfish... They didn't even tell me that there basically bait for Death Eaters." Lyra sniffed, "How could Harry ask—"

"He doesn't know." Ban gasped in the realization and Ginny nodded, confirming, he dropped his hands in shock. "Harry would never agree to this, it wasn't his idea. Mad-Eye—" Ban sighed, "Sorry Ginny, when you think of him, you just crack open."

"How could they— willingly?"

"Because You-Know-Who needs to be stopped." Ginny watched Ban sit beside his sister, "At _any_ cost. Fred and George know that. They are willing to risk their lives for Harry's, because he's the only one who can stop him."

"I don't care." Lyra stared at her tea and then drank slowly until she could see the sediment. Lyra frowned at her tea leaves and closed her eyes, refusing. "I don't care Thuban." Lyra swirled her finger in the cup to disperse the leaves that mocked her, and only when she was sure they were moved along the sides of her cup did she open her eyes.

Every second that ticked by felt like hours, Mrs. Weasley stood in front of the clock and stared at the five hands of her family. No one had returned yet, two lone port keys had arrived already. There was another bright blue light and everyone scrambled to their feet and out of the door. The women screamed as the figures fell, the Giant man collapsed entirely while the other fell onto his hands, Ban froze beside his sister when her feet stopped moving.

"Harry? You are the real Harry? What happened? Where are the others?" cried Mrs. Weasley.

"What d'you mean? Isn't anyone else back?" Harry panted. The answer was clearly etched in Mrs. Weasley's pale face, Lyra tried to bite back tears, _of course Harry was the first back._

"The Death Eaters were waiting for us," Harry told her and Lyra stroked her locket and tried to steady her breathing. "We were surrounded the moment we took off— they knew it was tonight— I don't know what happened to anyone else, four of them chased us, it was all we could do to get away, and then Voldemort caught up with us—"

He had a self-justifying note in his voice, an unspoken plea for Mrs. Weasley to understand why he did not know what had happened to her sons, but— "Thank goodness you're all right," she said, pulling him into a hug that Lyra resented.

"Haven't go' any brandy, have yeh, Molly?" asked Hagrid a little shakily. "Fer medicinal purposes?"

She could have summoned it by magic, but as she hurried back toward the crooked house, Lyra caught sight of her tear streaked face. Mrs. Weasley would have preferred her own sons, Lyra certainly would have. Harry turned to Ginny and she answered his unspoken plea for information at once.

"Ron and Tonks should have been back first, but they missed their Portkey, it came back without them," she said, pointing at a rusty oil can lying on the ground nearby. "And that one," she pointed at an ancient sneaker, Ban slipped his hand into his sisters and squeezed it tightly, tears were welling in her eyes as Ginny continued, "should have been Dad and Fred's, they were supposed to be second." Lyra's sob caught in the throat when her brother pulled her against his chest, "You and Hagrid were third and," she checked her watch, "if they made it, George and Lupin ought to be back in about a minute."

Mrs. Weasley reappeared carrying a bottle of brandy, which she handed to Hagrid. He uncorked it and drank it straight down in one. Lyra stared out into the night and gasped. "Mum!" shouted Ginny, pointing to a spot several feet away. A blue light had appeared in the darkness: It grew larger and brighter, and Remus and George appeared, spinning and then falling. Lyra's legs give out beneath her, Thuban held her tightly to him to keep her upright and watched: Remus was supporting George, who was unconscious and whose face was covered in blood.

Harry ran forward and seized George's legs. Together, he and Lupin carried George into the house and through the kitchen to the sitting room, where they laid him on the sofa. Ban carried his sister after them and she crumpled beside the arm of the couch when he lessened the hold on her, the sight had wrecked her. The lamplight fell across George's head, Ginny gasped and Lyra let out a soft sob: One of George's ears was missing. The side of his head and neck were drenched in wet, shockingly scarlet, blood.

No sooner had Mrs. Weasley bent over her son, that Remus grabbed Harry by the upper arm and dragged him, none too gently, back into the kitchen. Lyra finally understood why Fred had scolded her, understood his reason they put her on house arrest after seeing her covered in blood. Seeing George like this was worse than death.

"Oi!" said Hagrid indignantly. "Le' go of him! Le' go of Harry!"

Remus ignored the giant man who struggled through the door. "What creature sat in the corner the first time that Harry Potter visited my office at Hogwarts?" he said, giving Harry a small shake. "Answer me!"

"A— a grindylow in a tank, wasn't it?"

Remus released Harry and fell back against a kitchen cupboard. "Wha' was tha' about?" roared Hagrid as Ban rushed to Harry's side defensively.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I had to check," said Remus tersely. "We've been betrayed. Voldemort knew that you were being moved tonight and the only people who could have told him were directly involved in the plan. You might have been an impostor."

"So why aren' you checkin' me?" panted Hagrid, still struggling to fit through the door.

"You're half-giant," said Remus, Lyra couldn't tear her eyes from the side of George's face and her brother was suddenly at her side, shaking her relentlessly. "The Polyjuice Potion is designed for human use only."

"None of the Order would have told Voldemort we were moving tonight," said Harry. "Voldemort only caught up with me toward the end, he didn't know which one I was in the beginning. If he'd been in on the plan he'd have known from the start I was the one with Hagrid."

"Voldemort caught up with you?" said Remus sharply. "What happened? How did you escape?"

Lyra gaped at the man she loved, one of them, at the hole in his head, at his mother crying soundlessly as she tried to clean and heal him. Ban shook her again but all she could hear was Harry, as he briefly explained how the Death Eaters pursuing them had seemed to recognize him as the true Harry, how they had abandoned the chase, how they must have summoned Voldemort, who had appeared just before he and Hagrid had reached the sanctuary of Tonks's parents.

"They recognized you? But how? What had you done?"

"I..." Stuttered Harry, Lyra tried to tune them out, she looked to her brother; he was speaking but Lyra couldn't hear him; her blood boiled. "I saw Stan Shunpike... You know, the bloke who was the conductor on the Knight Bus? And I tried to Disarm him instead of— well, he doesn't know what he's doing, does he? He must be Imperiused!"

"Harry, the time for Disarming is past! These people are trying to capture and kill you! At least Stun if you aren't prepared to kill!"

"We were hundreds of feet up! Stan's not himself, and if I Stunned him and he'd fallen, he'd have died the same as if I'd used Avada Kedavra! Expelliarmus saved me from Voldemort two years ago," Harry added defiantly.

"Yes, Harry," said Lupin with painful restraint, "and a great number of Death Eaters witnessed that happening! Forgive me, but it was a very unusual move then, under imminent threat of death. Repeating it tonight in front of Death Eaters who either witnessed or heard about the first occasion was close to suicidal!"

"So you think I should have killed Stan Shunpike?" said Harry angrily. _Yes_ Lyra growled in her mind and Ban forced her face towards him and away from George.

"No Lyra." Ban whispered, but her eyes just glazed over his searching eyes. He prodded at her mind, but there was nothing to read, her head was empty as she let her rage Occlude her.

"Of course not," said Remus. Ban held Lyra's shoulders and shook her again pleading for her to say something, to do something, "but the Death Eaters — frankly, most people! — would have expected you to attack back! Expelliarmus is a useful spell, Harry, but the Death Eaters seem to think it is your signature move, and I urge you not to let it become so!"

"I won't blast people out of my way just because they're there," said Harry. "That's Voldemort's job." Lyra hated him. Harry. Hated him for letting George volunteer for whatever this was. Thuban rose his hand high and smacked her sharply across the face, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny gasped but Lyra finally got a grip of herself and wiped her wet cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Lala—." Ban looked terrified but Lyra shook her head, finally able to focus on something other than Harry's conversation.

"Will George be okay?" Lyra ground her teeth as her hatred swelled, she wanted revenge, and when she followed the compulsion propelling her to her feet, her brother pushed her back to her knees and shoved her back against the arm of the chair.

" _Enough Lyra._ " Hissed Ban, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley stared at the twins. "It's not his fault!"

"I think so, Lyra," said Mrs. Weasley, blinking at the siblings, "although there's no chance of replacing his ear, not when it's been cursed off—" There was a scuffling from outside. Lupin dived for the back door; Harry leapt over Hagrid's legs and sprinted into the yard followed by Thuban. Lyra stood on wobbly legs and touched Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, her rage fading with the distance Harry created as he ran across the yard.

"Can I help?" Mrs. Weasley touched a trembling, bloody, hand to Lyra's and shook her head.

"Harry, give us a hand!" called Hagrid hoarsely from the door, in which he was stuck again. Mrs. Weasley had staunched George's bleeding now, and Lyra noticed Harry as soon as he was in the sitting room, she could feel him; her blood felt like lava.

"How is he?" Lyra wanted to scream at Harry, wanted to strangle him. She took a step towards him, grinding her teeth. Ban was at her side again, seizing her wrist and tore her wand from her hand and he became a physical barrier between her and Harry. He held her wrist with a force that would certainly bruise her and jerked her into his chest, towering over her and sneering down at her.

_" Enough now."_ Thuban's voice was a low hiss as he scolded her, she wriggled in his grip. _"It's not Harry's fault."_

_"The fuck it isn't!"_ Lyra tore her arm from her brother and shoved him away fro her, she noticed Mrs. Weasley looking around the room, confused.

They're eyes met, "I can't make it grow back, not when it's been removed by Dark Magic. But it could have been so much worse... He's alive." Lyra could breathe again, and as she inhaled her legs gave way and her brother stepped forward to hold her tightly as she sobbed against him.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Thank God." Her rage surmounted, she quaked with her fury, and if her legs could hold her she could have rushed Harry Potter. Ban seemed to feel her anger, know what she was thinking despite the inability to probe inside of her mind. He stiffened against her, locked his arms around her back to hold her tightly against him. He backed her slowly towards George, keeping Harry out of her sightline and rubbed her arms in attempts to smooth her out of her homicidal rage.

"Him." Ban whispered against the top of her head, "Lyra, focus on George. He needs you right now. Forget Harry, focus on George." She struggled to turn her head and when she stared at him her rage was snuffed out and the shock and sadness floored her.

"Did I hear someone else in the yard?" Ginny asked.

"Hermione and Kingsley," said Harry.

"Thank goodness," Ginny whispered. There was a great crash from the kitchen and Lyra tried to tear away from her brother but he held her still. His eyes were hard as he felt her flickering emotions. Ban simply shook his head and held her, taking deep breaths and tried to keep all of the emotions swirling through the room from overwhelming him, he shook with the strain.

"I'll prove who I am, Kingsley, after I've seen my son, now back off if you know what's good for you!"

Mr. Weasley burst into the living room, his bald patch gleaming with sweat, his spectacles askew, Fred right behind him, both pale but uninjured.

"Arthur!" sobbed Mrs. Weasley. "Oh thank goodness!" Thuban finally released her, but didn't return her wand. Lyra stumbled forward into Fred's arms and held his face between her palms. She cried and he kissed her as soon as their bodies collided roughly.

"I'm here." Lyra sobbed, "Lyra I'm here, I'm okay." Fred walked her backwards towards his brother with a pale face.

"How is he?" She shook her head, unsure, and Fred wrapped himself around her.

Mr. Weasley dropped to his knees beside George, and for the first time since Lyra had met him, Fred seemed to be lost for words. He gaped over the back of the sofa at his twin's wound, as if he could not believe what he was seeing. Fred pulled Lyra to his chest roughly, digging his fingers into her to hold her, he clung to her body for support, to ground himself to the moment, he needed reassurance that this was real. He trailed his hand up her back and fisted his hand in her hair as his breathing rattled and his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. His hands hurt as his hold tightened, she dug to nails into his back to tell him it was real, that she was there with him. Lyra wished it wasn't real, wished that it was a dream, but this nightmare wasn't one that they could wake up from. She fisted his shirt in her hands and he pulled her hair as he forced her head harder against his chest.

Perhaps roused by the sound of Fred and their Father's arrival, George stirred. "How do you feel, Georgie?" whispered Mrs. Weasley. Lyra turned her head uncomfortably so she could look down at him, George's fingers groped for the side of his head.

"Saintlike," he murmured.

"What's wrong with him?" croaked Fred, looking terrified as he squeezed Lyra harder, her shoulders popped. "Is his mind affected?"

"Saintlike," repeated George, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother. "You see... I'm holy. _Holey_ , Fred, geddit?"

Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder than ever. Color flooded Fred's pale face.

"Pathetic," he told George. "Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humor before you, you go for holey?"

"Ah well," said George, grinning at his tear-soaked mother. "You'll be able to tell us apart now, anyway, Mum." He looked around. "Hi, Harry— you are Harry, right?"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry, moving closer to the sofa, Lyra ground her teeth.

"Well, at least we got you back okay," said George. "Why aren't Ron and Bill huddled round my sickbed?"

"They're not back yet, George," said Mrs. Weasley. George's grin faded, Fred brought Lyra around the sofa and she fell to her knees when he released her, unable to stand without his crushing embrace, George brought his hand slowly to her face, caressing it and smearing remnants of blood across her cheek. "Well," Mrs. Weasley made an indistinguishable sound and Lyra could hear Mr. Weasley's refusals and they stepped into the kitchen to give them a little privacy.

"I hate you." Lyra cried and Fred touched her shoulder gently. "Both of you."

"Bit harsh, love." George looked up at his brother and then back to Lyra, "We should have a sale."

"What?" Lyra sputtered and wiped her eyes ungracefully as he stroked his thumb along her cheek. "You could have died and you're thinking of a fucking sale?"

"Weasley Wizard Wheezes, extendable ears: now twenty five percent off." Fred and George laughed loudly, Lyra couldn't stop staring at the hole in George's head. Ginny burst back into the house and shouted that Ron had returned, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sprinted from their home and Fred clapped a hand on George's shoulder.

"You okay?" Asked Fred, Lyra couldn't understand them. George had a _hole_ in the side of his head and they were laughing. The last time she was hurt they scolded her for being reckless.

"I'm great actually," George dropped his hand from her face and adjusted on the couch with a loud groan, "Maybe I should quit the store. I'd make a great Quidditch player now."

"What?" Lyra shook her head and George wiped her tears away with his thumb.

"Why's that?" Fred cracked a smile, already suppressing a laugh.

"Less wind resistance." The twins laughter shook the room, against her senses, Lyra smiled at them.

"What's wrong?" said Fred, scanning everyone's faces as they filled the home. "What's happened? Who's— ?"

"Mad-Eye," said Mr. Weasley. "Dead."

The twins' grins turned to grimaces of shock. Nobody seemed to know what to do. Tonks was crying silently into a handkerchief, George grabbed Lyra's hand and squeezed. Hagrid, who had sat down on the floor in the corner where he had most space, was dabbing at his eyes with his tablecloth-sized handkerchief. Bill walked over to the sideboard and pulled out a bottle of FireWhiskey and some glasses.

"Here," he said, and with a wave of his wand he sent fourteen full glasses soaring through the room to each of them, holding the fifteenth aloft. "Mad-Eye."

"Mad-Eye," they all said, and drank. Lyra had never met the man, but she used the toast as a reason to drink. She poured a little out onto the rug, wishing the deceased the best as she raised her glass to the sky and then tossed it back effortlessly.

"Mad-Eye," echoed Hagrid, a little late, with a hiccup.

"So Mundungus disappeared?" said Remus, who had drained his own glass in one. The atmosphere changed at once. Everybody looked tense, watching Lupin, both wanting him to go on and slightly afraid of what they might hear.

"I know what you're thinking," said Bill, "and I wondered that too, on the way back here, because they seemed to be expecting us, didn't they? But Mundungus can't have betrayed us. They didn't know there would be seven Harrys, that confused them the moment we appeared, and in case you've forgotten, it was Mundungus who suggested that little bit of skullduggery. Why wouldn't he have told them the essential point? I think Dung panicked, it's as simple as that. He didn't want to come in the first place, but Mad-Eye made him, and You-Know-Who went straight for them. It was enough to make anyone panic."

Harry's eyes found Lyra's and if she could kill with a look, the one she gave him would have laid him out. Ban was beside Harry and whispered something that seemed to ease whatever tension he had.

"You-Know-Who acted exactly as Mad-Eye expected him to," sniffed Tonks. "Mad-Eye said he'd expect the real Harry to be with the toughest, most skilled Aurors. He chased Mad-Eye first, and when Mundungus gave them away he switched to Kingsley..."

"Yes, and zat eez all very good," snapped Fleur, "but still eet does not explain 'ow zey knew we were moving 'Arry tonight, does eet? Somebody must 'ave been careless. Somebody let slip ze date to an outsider. It is ze only explanation for zem knowing ze date but not ze 'ole plan."

Fleur glared around at them all, tear tracks still etched on her beautiful face, silently daring any of them to contradict her. Nobody did. The only sound to break the silence was that of Hagrid hiccupping from behind his handkerchief. Harry glanced at Hagrid, eyeing him for a moment, and after his gaze softened he looked at Lyra again and offered her a small nod.

"No," Harry said aloud, and the room looked to him, surprised: The FireWhiskey seemed to have amplified his voice. "I mean... if somebody made a mistake," Harry went on, "and let something slip, I know they didn't mean to do it. It's not their fault," he repeated in a voice a little louder than his normal volume. "We've got to trust each other. I trust all of you," he stared at Lyra, "I don't think anyone in this room would ever sell me to Voldemort."

More silence followed his words. They were all looking to Harry and he drank more of his FireWhiskey, Ban moved around the room like a ghost and a few eyes followed him as he handed Lyra his full glass. Fred and George glared at him, Lyra ignored they way Fred removed his hand from her shoulder, downed the drink and silently holding it up to her brother requesting another.

"Well said, Harry," said Fred unexpectedly who tore his gaze from Lyra and looked back at him.

"Yeah, 'ear, 'ear," said George with half a glance at Fred, the corner of whose mouth twitched, Lyra shook her head with a snort and lightly hit his thigh as a scold.

Remus was wearing an odd expression as he looked at Harry, it was close to pity. "You think I'm a fool?" demanded Harry.

"No, I think you're like James," said Remus, "who would have regarded it as the height of dishonor to mistrust his friends."

Remus turned his eyes away from Harry, set down his glass upon a side table, and addressed Bill, "There's work to do. I can ask Kingsley whether—"

"No," said Bill at once, "I'll do it, I'll come."

"Where are you going?" said Tonks and Fleur together.

"Mad-Eye's body," said Remus. "We need to recover it."

"Can't it— ?" began Mrs. Weasley with an appealing look at Bill.

"Wait?" said Bill. "Not unless you'd rather the Death Eaters took it?" Nobody spoke. Lupin and Bill said good-bye and left. The rest of them now dropped into chairs, all except for Harry, who remained standing and Ban who fixed his sister another drink, filling the glass almost to the brim.

"I've got to go too," said Harry, Lyra silently agreed and brushed George's forehead tenderly, pushing her anger away thanks to the small buzz forming from the FireWhiskey.

"Don't be silly, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley. "What are you talking about?"

"I can't stay here." Harry rubbed his forehead, "You're all in danger while I'm here. I don't want—"

"But don't be so silly!" said Mrs. Weasley. "The whole point of tonight was to get you here safely, and thank goodness it worked. And Fleur's agreed to get married here rather than in France, we've arranged everything so that we can all stay together and look after you—"

Harry's face soured. "If Voldemort finds out I'm here—"

"But why should he?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"There are a dozen places you might be now, Harry," said Mr. Weasley. "He's got no way of knowing which safe house you're in."

"It's not me I'm worried for!" said Harry.

"We know that," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "but it would make our efforts tonight seem rather pointless if you left." Lyra fussed with George's collar and he tried to batt her hand away, but when he glanced away from his family to her tear stained face he let her continue to poke and prod him and fuss with the fit of his clothes and the way his hair was falling.

"Yer not goin' anywhere," growled Hagrid. "Blimey, Harry, after all we wen' through ter get you here?"

"Yeah, what about my bleeding ear?" said George, hoisting himself up on his cushions and Lyra fell away from him. "I know that—"

"Mad-Eye wouldn't want—"

"I KNOW!" Harry bellowed.

Lyra was trying to focus on George, on how alive he was, how safe she could keep him, Ban hovered over her after she had her third drink. Eyeing her as if she could sense how hard she was repressing her anger. Lyra noticed George staring at her wand that was secured in her brother's tight grip with a displeased scowl. Ban had noticed too, looked for George to her wand in his hand and raised a challenging eyebrow. There was a long and awkward silence which was broken at last by Mrs. Weasley.

"Where's Hedwig, Harry?" she said coaxingly. "We can put her up with Pigwidgeon and give her something to eat."

Harry drank the last of his FireWhiskey to avoid answering and Mrs. Weasley looked disheartened.

"Wait 'till it gets out yeh did it again, Harry," said Hagrid. "Escaped him, fought him off when he was right on top of yeh!"

"It wasn't me," said Harry flatly. "It was my wand. My wand acted of its own accord."

After a few moments, Hermione said gently, "But that's impossible, Harry. You mean that you did magic without meaning to; you reacted instinctively."

"No," said Harry. "The bike was falling, I couldn't have told you where Voldemort was, but my wand spun in my hand and found him and shot a spell at him, and it wasn't even a spell I recognized. I've never made gold flames appear before." Lyra was letting her anger over come her again and Ban could feel it. He placed his hand on her shoulder and she tried to bite back the rage that was blooming in her chest, fogging her mind, and contaminating her body. Lyra's fingertips brushed George's hand and he seethed, sucking in a breath and shying away from her as if he were burned. Lyra sat back on her heels and focused on her breathing as Ban held her down with a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Often," said Mr. Weasley, "when you're in a pressured situation you can produce magic you never dreamed of. Small children often find, before they're trained—"

"It wasn't like that," said Harry through gritted teeth. No one said anything. Lyra closed her eye and could feel Ban prodding her mind and picked at the calmest memories she had to try and settle her down. Her eyes fluttered open when Fred touched her and she stared up at the twins who were glaring intensely at her brother. Harry muttered about fresh air, he set down his glass and left the room, Lyra went to stand, to follow him, but Ban forced her back on her knees and prodded her mind again. Fred and George tried arguing with him, but she couldn't hear any of them as the world seemed to wobble. This time Ban pushed his memories onto her, Lyra scowled as her brain seemed to squeeze. She saw Ban in the memory, she was staring at him as he sat in the middle of a Gryffindor dorm, it was then that she realized the memory wasn't her brother's, it belonged to Harry.


	5. Chapter 5- Vivere Memoriam

Lyra stood at the bottom of the stairs and closed her eyes to force her anger deeper inside her, swallowing it, boxing it away— she tensed when the Ghoul groaned in the attic, knocking away her concentration. She crossed her arms and squeezed her eyes shut almost painfully as she sifted through the most recent memories Ban had forced on her, they weren't helping as much as he would like. She knew more about Harry than she would have ever cared for, has seen the creepy Professor with a face on the back of his head, the massive snake, Remus turn into a Werewolf, a dragon and the graveyard, and experienced Harry's Godfather dying multiple times. She heard through his memories about the Prophecy and truly felt sorry for Harry, but that was all she felt for him; pity. Pity and pure, unbridled, rage. He reminded her of Draco, the lack of care and concern Harry showed for the people around him mirrored how Draco had treated her. It was worse, in her opinion, because Harry had convinced people to do it on their own volition, didn't even have to ask. Draco asked, demanded and when someone said no he forced them to do it; at least Draco showed his colors; she _knew_ he was a monster. Lyra was broken away from her, less than relaxing, meditative state and looked over her shoulder when she heard footsteps on the stairs. "Good job, Darling." Fred kissed her head as he passed onto the landing.

George smiled at her, "Right. Did Mum—" Lyra flatted her mouth and shook her head.

"Didn't even come up, Ginny and Hermione did for a moment but then Ginny left and Hermione went to Ron's room."

"Wonderful." Mr. Weasley clapped his hands together once and then looked from Fred to Lyra to George. He shifted awkwardly when he realized Lyra was staring at George's bandaged head, where his ear should be. "I'll go check on your Mother- er- Molly." He moved around Lyra who stepped closer to George.

"You're still mad." George tipped Lyra's chin up with his knuckle as she stared up at him.

"How could I not be? You both tell me to not go out and get hurt..." Lyra's voice cracked, "And then you come back all bloody and—" she raised her hand as if she wanted to tuck his hair behind his ear, but then simply made a fist and gently hit George's chest, "You're so stupid. Both of you." Lyra swallowed as her lip quivered. "You could have died." She shoulders shook lightly as she cried and Fred was at her side, rubbing her back and then massaging her neck as she pressed her head into George's sternum. "What if it was you?" Her voice quaked, "Instead of Mad-Eye. What if it was you who's body we couldn't find?" Lyra finally looked up at them. "Did you even think about that?"

"Lyra." She shook her head and pushed away from them.

"You're selfish. You're so fucking selfish. You make me swear to stop doing dangerous things, and then you run head first towards Death Eaters who _obviously_ want to kill you." Lyra could hear Mrs. Weasley shouting from the kitchen, four floors below, "I'm going to go help your Mom." Lyra sniffed and wiped her face until it was dry and her eyes were itchy. "I love you." She growled, her locket clicked open and she closed it in her fist as she strode down the stairs.

The Burrow was more than crowded with members of The Order flitting in and out of the small home all day and night, and Mrs. Weasley was getting harder and harder to get along with as her nerves ran higher as the days ticked towards the wedding. Frequently, Lyra could feel Thuban chipping away at the wards and walls in her mind as she attempted to meditate. She wanted to quell her _own_ anger, for everyone's sake, but mostly she wanted to strengthen her mind against her brother. Everything would crack under his prodding and he would forcibly calm her. Bring memories to the surface that would make her less irritable, less prone to attack Harry... again. Ban pulled at her memories of her lying on a beach or Ilvermorny. Her favorite was when Ban would trap her in the memory where she laid on the soft grass in front of Ilvermorny and let the rain soak her to the bone. Lyra opened her eyes with a satisfied sigh and stared out the kitchen window, wishing desperately that it would rain. Lyra turned from the sink, scratching her wrist lightly, and ran right into Mrs. Weasley who shouted loudly when the silverware fell to the floor.

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't— I didn't mean to."

"Maybe you should take a break. Go and help the boys outside." Lyra could see the color rising in Mrs. Weasley's face as she tried to help her pick up the dinnerware.

"I really am—"

"It's alright, Dear." Mrs. Weasley huffed and rushed away.

Lyra reclused herself outside and watched the small wisps of clouds move along the light blue sky. Ban dug up another memory, from wherever he was, and she smiled as Fred and George's birthday flitted behind her closing eyelids.

"Where have you been?" George called to her, Lyra gave a coy shrug, suppressed a smile, and placed a box on the counter after set a few bags on the floor near her feet. She had come through the front door, Lyra had never used it by herself before, and it had both of the twins fidgeting nervously.

"Ron," she smiled, "Told me that it was your birthday." Lyra tossed her hair out of her face, "Why didn't you tell me?" Lyra laughed. "Or was this just an April Fools Day prank from him?"

"No, Darling." Fred leant over the counter and pulled lightly at the ribbon that wrapped the cake box, not undoing it but simply gliding his fingers along the length of the tails. "It's our birthday."

"How old are you now then?"

"Today is our Twentieth birthday." Lyra blinked up at them and then smiled.

"Here I was thinking you were older. _Much_ older."

"Ouch." George kissed her cheek and tried to peak into one of the many bags on the floor.

"Don't even." She rolled her eye, "It's a complement and those—" Lyra tipped George's chin up so he wouldn't peak anymore, "Are already wrapped and are meant for later." She pulled a pack of candles from one of the bags; red and gold. Fred and George smiled as she counted out the candles. "Twenty, and one for good luck." Lyra paused for a moment, "Two for good luck?" She aged another candle to the pile, "Wait, I only got one cake... but there's two of you." Fred swiped his tongue over his lips and grinned at her as he chuckled. He leant forward on his crossed arms and kissed her lightly, Lyra blinked in surprised and Fred's eyes seemed to shine. He was happy. "What?" Lyra looked from him to George who looked equally as pleased, "Should I have gotten two? Since you always share things?"

"When it comes to you," George smiled and kissed Lyra's head.

"We enjoy sharing everything." Lyra flushed and pulled most of her short hair back into an elastic.

The memory seemed to fast forward, everything moved around her, blurring as the day stretched on. Lyra sang them happy birthday and Fred and George grinned up at her from where they lounged on the floor beside the coffee table, "Make a wish and blow out the candles." The brothers looked at each and then closed their eyes for a moment before they blew out the candles in unison. She smiled widely and leant forward to pull the candles out. "Now," Lyra glanced up at them from the plate full of candles, "no!" Lyra shouted and then laughed as George froze, the knife hovering over the cake.

"What?" He laughed.

"It's bad luck to cut your name." She leant forward and swiped each one of her index fingers over their names and put the finger that belonged to the appropriate brother into their mouths. "There." She smiled, blushing when Fred ran his tongue slowly over his lips with a wink, "Now—" she cleared her throat, "Now you can cut it, you each cut your own piece." George was first and then he passed the large knife to his brother. Lyra inhaled sharply when his slice toppled over, "Oh Fred." He looked up at her and licked the frosting off his thumb. "Looks like you're not getting married." He raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged. "My family is superstitious."

"And me?" George pointed to his slice with his fork.

"You will, your cake didn't fall over." Lyra blushed when George winked at her and then cut her own slice, and she laid it on its side while the twins groaned.

"Cheat."

"Sneak."

"I was under the impression that the two of you wanted to share me? How could I _possibly_ only marry one of you?" Lyra chuckled and watched them eat.

George appreciated the chocolate cake with a moan, "Did you make this?"

Lyra laughed, "No, no. I mean I _can_ bake, sort of," she scrunched her nose and shrugged, "but I went into London to get this. Konditor and Cook, _the_ best cakes in London. This is their Curly Whirly Cake, there's usually more curls and whirls." Lyra pointed to the border of swirls, "But I asked them to write Happy Birthday and your names so... not too curly or whirly."

"Are you not eating?" Lyra glanced at Fred and shook her head.

"You have to take a bite first. Birthday Boys always get first bite, it's bad luck if I eat before you."

"You're so strange." His lips pulled in a smile, "Happy?" Fred asked with his mouth full and then licked the frosting off of his fork.

"Completely." Lyra raised a fork full of cake to her mouth. Fred smiled widely and set his cake aside as he leant to kiss her, Lyra's eyes fluttered closed and when he was inches from her she smooshed a bit of cake over his lips.

George roared with laughter and Fred pounced her, sliding himself over the table and hovering over her as he pinned her to the floor. "Is that how you treat the Birthday Boy?" He collected most of it with his fingers and licked them clean before kissing her. It was messy and deep, and as he turned his head slightly to deepen their kiss, he smeared the remainder of frosting and chocolate cake over her mouth.

"I can't wait to unwrap my gift," His hand moved down to her hip and then pushed under her shirt until he was cupping her breast. He swallowed her moan and licked the frosting from her mouth before he pushed his tongue past her lips so she could taste the cake on it. He groaned, "I wonder—"

"Lyra!" She was roused from her memory with a rough shove. Lyra sat up quickly and wiped her eyes as she stared up at Ginny's unnaturally pale face. "You—you were just lying there! You didn't answer me and I didn't see you breathe." She shook her head, "And then you were crying. Are you okay?"

"Oh," Lyra wiped her wet face again and brushed her hair back, giving it a quick tug before she looked back up at Ginny. "I'm sorry, I must've fell asleep, I was just dreaming."

"Was it about—" Her voice trailed off and Lyra shook her head.

"No, no. This was a good dream." Lyra looked past Ginny and saw Ban as he stepped out of the back door. "A gift really."

❧

Lyra fiddled with her mug and sipped the FireWhiskey spike tea she had served herself and picked a muffin from the basket. "You've been avoiding us." Lyra shook her head and stared at the sugar crystals baked into the top of the muffin.

"I've just been trying to stay out of the way. I keep bumping into everyone." Lyra raised her mug and Fred pulled it from her hand gently.

"Probably happening because you haven't stopped drinking since George—" Lyra couldn't look at either of them, she adjusted the chain of her locket and shook her head again.

"Not true. I've been drinking since we got here from being attacked in my home. You two just didn't notice since you were off being selfless hero's and almost getting yourselves killed." Lyra grumbled and shoved her locked down her shirt.

"Lyra—" She groaned and set her head onto the cool wood table. "—you can talk to us."

"Can I?" She closed her eyes.

"Of course." They pulled up chairs at either side of her, "What would make you think you can't?"

"You don't listen to me." She sighed, "No one listens to me."

"What are you—"

"Harry says anything, anything at all, and everyone here believes him like his word is law. I tell you that I think my Uncles' are missing, we were even attacked in my house while we looked for the two of 'em. My House Elf even said they sent her away and then disappeared and none of you— not you, Fred or even Ban, my own fucking brother, believe me." She let out another long breath, "And then you throw yourself into something so _stupid_ and George got his ear cursed off... Either of you could have died and I had to find out through your _little sister_ that you might not be coming home." A tear pooled in the corner of her eye and then rolled over the bridge of her nose. "Do you know how scared I was when your port key showed up and you weren't there" she let out a shutting breath and and squeezed more tears from her eyes. "You're willing to to die for him, but won't even listen to me."

"Lyra that's not—" Fred was cut short by the door opening and happy chatter filling the home. Lyra sat up and wiped her face quickly as the guests were led into the kitchen.

"Well, come in, do!" said Mrs. Weasley brightly, and she ushered the Delacours over the threshold, with many "No, please!"s and "After you!"s and "Not at all!"s.

Lyra smiled widely when Mrs. Weasley introduced her to Fleur's parents. "Voici le cousin dont je vous ai parlé dans mes lettres." Fleur smiled widely and Lyra blinked.

"Vous ne l'avez jamais m'a appelé ce titre avant." Fred and George stared at Lyra and she scratched her head nervously.

"Ma nièce! Fleur m'a tellement parlé de vous! Et vos cheveux! Magnifique!" Fleur's mother opened her arms wide and Lyra stood and rounded the table to embrace her as the twins gaped at her.

"You speak French?" Fred frowned, "I thought your mother was Bulgarian."

Lyra kissed Madame Delacour's cheeks and smiled widely when her husband greeted her the same. "My Uncle's have business in France, I've been going to Paris since I was three." She turned back to the twins and frowned, "Of course, I suppose you'd know that if you listened to what I have to say, seeing as I've told you before..."

Fleur pulled Lyra after her and was followed by a much smaller version of Fleur, her eleven year old sister Gabrielle, Lyra tried to keep pace with their rapid fire French.

"'Ow lovely." Madame Delacour clapped happily and Fred and George stared after Lyra as she was pulled onto the sofa to talk with the girls.

The Delacour's were helpful, pleasant guests who seemed to be pleased with everything, and were keen to assist with the preparations for the wedding. Monsieur Delacour pronounced everything from the seating plan to the bridesmaids' shoes "Charmant!" Madame Delacour was most accomplished at household spells and had the oven properly cleaned in a trice; Gabrielle followed her elder sister around, trying to assist in any way she could and jabbering away quickly in French. Lyra tried to convince the girls to speak English every chance she could manage while trying desperately to remember all the French she had neglected for the last two years.

The Burrow was not built to accommodate so many people. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were now sleeping in the sitting room, having shouted down Monsieur and Madame Delacour's protests and insisted they take their bedroom. Gabrielle was sleeping with Fleur in Percy's old room, and Bill would be sharing with Charlie, his best man, once Charlie arrived from Romania. Lyra was still sleeping in Ginny's cramped bedroom, along with Hermione who, along with Ginny, seemed to find her sudden friendship with Fleur to be as bizarre, if not more, than the one blooming between Thuban, Fred, and George.

Lyra watched the three of them leave through the he back door, Fleur snapped her pearly white manicured fingers in front of Lyra's face and she blinked back into focus. "I'm sorry I must have zoned out." Gabrielle looked from her to Fleur, who translated easily. Lyra picked the polish off her chipping nails as she glanced back at the door as it closed behind them.

Somehow, Lyra had managed to sneak into Ginny's room for a bit of alone time. She took in the small, bright bedroom and stared out of the window from where she sat on her friend's bed. "Oh," said Ginny with a start, "Good morning, I thought you were downstairs already."

"Yeah, I was, but I snuck away from Fleur. I'm not sure how much more talk I can take about what I plan on doing with my hair or how I'm painting my nails or the height of my heels..." Lyra checked her now fixed manicure and then frowned, "She tried to make me put my dress on, multiple times, because she somehow convinced herself I'd wear white." Lyra shook her head and watched as Thuban jogged after Fred and George. He tossed his arms around their necks and laughed as they walked around the large, pearly white marquee. She leant closer to the window and squinted, "What are they—"

"Lyra, I'm sorry to do this... but could you leave? For a bit, not too long, well I don't know, maybe a little while." Ginny was turning red and Lyra nodded slowly.

"Oh, for sure. No problem." She got to her feet and glanced back at the bed, "Change the sheets after?" Ginny yanked a pillow from the bed and hit her until she was out of the door. Lyra passed Ron, Harry and Hermione on the stairs and mumbled a "Happy Birthday," to Harry before brushing past them.

"Thank you, uh—your gift was nice."

"M—my gift?"

"Yeah, the sweaters and chocolates. We don't exactly know—" he stopped himself and glanced over Lyra's shoulder to her brother. "Right, well, I just appreciate the thought."

"Oh... you're welcome then. Happy Birthday."

"Thanks." Lyra frowned at her brother when she turned and stood on the last two steps so she could be eye level with him. "You gave him a gift in my name? I figured by now you should know how I felt about Harry."

"Yeah, but you've both set off on the wrong foot. I'm sure if you just gave him a chan—"

"I did Ban. And I feel the same, really, even with your whole memory dump plot." She uncrossed her arms and took another step down as she eyed her brother. "Anyways," Ban backed away and she sucked her teeth and raised an eyebrow, "What have you been up to lately, besides assaulting my mind with Harry's thoughts?"

"Nothing much, really. Fred and George showed me the makeshift Quidditch pitch on that little hill, near the Orchards. It's pretty neat."

Lyra narrowed her eyes at her brother, "You don't like Quidditch."

"No, my dear sister, _you_ don't like Quidditch." Ban chuckled, "Which is ironic because your _boyfriends'_ were apparently really skilled Beaters before they left Hogwarts." Lyra rolled her eyes and Ban stared up the stairs, "You can go back up if you want. Ron's an asshole who apparently can't take a hint." He took the stairs two at a time and Lyra heard Ron gurgle as Thuban pulled him into a headlock and scolded him about invading other people's privacy.

"Hypocrite." She rolled her eyes and tried to sneak into the kitchen for a cup of tea, only to be snagged by Fleur who wanted to ask her opinion on the tablecloths and drink menu.

❧

Harry's guest list for his birthday dinner was threatening to stretch the Burrow's kitchen past it's breaking point, even before the arrival of Charlie, Lupin, Tonks, and Hagrid, several tables were placed end to end in the garden. Fred and George bewitched a number of purple lanterns, all emblazoned with a large number seventeen, to hang in midair over the guests. Lyra had tried to get a word in, but Fleur pulled her away to talk more about what Lyra planned to wear to the wedding. "Fleur, I've _already_ told you, I don't really know, I purchased a few dresses and I never got their opinion." Lyra glanced back at the twins who winked at her, she felt a blush creep over her face and then finally caved into Fleur's demand. "After dinner alright, you can see the dresses then, help me choose. It'll help so I don't have to leave it until tomorrow." Gabrielle became so excited she hugged Lyra tightly, Fleur left to find her fiancé, and to probably invite Madame Delacour to the fitting.

Lyra meandered through the guests and the garden admiring the efforts and the decorations. Hermione made purple and gold streamers erupt from the end of her wand and drape themselves artistically over the trees and bushes. "Nice," said Ron, and with one final flourish of her wand, Hermione turned the leaves on the crabapple tree to gold. "You've really got an eye for that sort of thing."

"Thank you, Ron!" said Hermione, looking both pleased and a little confused.

"Out of the way, out of the way!" sang Mrs. Weasley, coming through the gate with what appeared to be a giant, beach-ball-sized Snitch floating in front of her. Lyra realized that it was Harry's birthday cake, which Mrs. Weasley was suspending with her wand, rather than risk carrying it over the uneven ground. When the cake had finally landed in the middle of the table, Harry said,

"That looks amazing, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, it's nothing, dear," she said fondly. Lyra thought back to her less than extravagant cake that she had given Fred and George for their birthday. She glanced over her shoulder and frowned when she watched Ban smile broadly and then laugh along with the twins.

By seven o'clock all the guests had arrived, led into the house by Fred, George and Thuban, who had waited for them at the end of the lane. Hagrid had honored the occasion by wearing his best: a horrible, hairy brown suit. Lyra nodded to Remus as he shook Harry's hand and then waited for Tonk's to finish with Harry to greet her, she simply looked radiant.

"Happy birthday, Harry," said Tonks, hugging him tightly.

"Seventeen, eh!" said Hagrid as he accepted a bucket-sized glass of wine from Fred. "Six years ter the day since we met, Harry, d'yeh remember it?" Lyra smiled to herself when Fred placed a chaste kiss on her temple as he passed.

"Vaguely," said Harry, grinning up at him. "Didn't you smash down the front door, give Dudley a pig's tail, and tell me I was a wizard?" Lyra had seen that in Ban's trip down Harry's memory lane. She swirled her finger inside of glass and appreciated her forethought of bringing her own liquor.

"I forge' the details," Hagrid chortled. "All righ', Ron, Hermione?"

"We're fine," said Hermione. "How are you?"

"Ar, not bad. Bin busy, we got some newborn unicorns, I'll show yeh when yeh get back— Here, Harry — couldn' think what ter get yeh, but then I remembered this." He pulled out a small, slightly furry drawstring pouch with a long string, evidently intended to be worn around the neck. "Mokeskin. Hide anythin' in there an' no one but the owner can get it out. They're rare, them."

"Hagrid, thanks!"

Lyra embraced Tonks and then grinned up at Remus who looked between Lyra and his wife with a strange expression. He spun on his heels and raised his chin, as if searching for someone. "How have you been. I haven't seen you since—" Lyra's voice trailed off. Remus seemed to find the person he was looking for and patted Tonks' shoulder as she pulled Lyra into another hug. "How are you holding up?"

"I've been great. Excellent!" Tonks reached for her husbands hand but frowned when she grasped air. She followed Lyra's nod and shook her head when Remus clapped George and Fred on their shoulder, pulling the twin's heads together as they all laughed. "I better go make sure he's not giving them too hard of a time."

"Oh, of course." Lyra's glass refilled and she stared at the uneven color, disappointed, and then used her finger to swirl the amoretto and the sour mix together better.

"'S'nothin'," said Hagrid with a wave of a dustbin-lid-sized hand. "An' there's Charlie! Always liked him— hey! Charlie!"

Lyra stood beside Hermione as she licked the sticky sweet liquor from her finger and glanced around Hagrid to stare at yet another Weasley. Charlie arrived last night and Lyra hadn't been introduced or had even seen him at all since Fleur had occupied her every waking minute. He approached, running his hand slightly ruefully over his short haircut. He was a bit shorter than Ron, thickset, with a number of burns and scratches up his muscley arms.

"Hi, Hagrid, how's it going?" Lyra glanced at Hermione who's ears were turning pink, she cleared her throat to chase the thoughts away and then blushed at Lyra's suggestively raised eyebrow.

"Glad to know I'm not the only one with the hots for a Weasley." Lyra knocked her hip into Hermione's and her blush deepened as she stared at her over the rim of her glass.

"Bin meanin' ter write fer ages. How's Norbert doin'?"

"I—it's not like that Lyra." Hermione whispered back and Lyra chuckled to herself.

"Norbert?" Charlie laughed. "The Norwegian Ridgeback? We call her Norberta now."

"Wha— Norbert's a girl?"

"Oh yeah," said Charlie, his eyes settling on Lyra, he ran his gaze over her and she felt her body burn wherever his eyes trailed.

"How can you tell?" asked Hermione, Lyra raked her eyes slowly over Fred and George's older brother, he _was_ handsome. She glanced near the gate of the garden at Fred and George who were laughing loudly at Remus, _they_ were better looking.

"They're a lot more vicious," said Charlie. He looked over his shoulder and dropped his voice, Lyra stopped herself from leaning forward and swallowed her magic that seemed to make his eyelids heavy for a moment. "Wish Dad would hurry up and get here. Mum's getting edgy." They all looked over at Mrs. Weasley. She was trying to talk to Madame Delacour while glancing repeatedly at the gate.

"I think we'd better start without Arthur," she called to the garden. "He must have been held up at— oh!" They all saw it at the same time: a streak of light that came flying across the yard and onto the table, where it resolved itself into a bright silver weasel, which stood on its hind legs and spoke with Mr. Weasley's voice.

"Minister of Magic coming with me."

The Patronus dissolved into thin air, leaving Fleur's family peering in astonishment at the place where it had vanished.

"We shouldn't be here," said Remus at once. "Harry— I'm sorry— I'll explain another time—"

He seized Tonks's wrist and pulled her away; they reached the fence, climbed over it, and vanished from sight. Mrs. Weasley looked bewildered, Lyra was struck dumb as she, and everyone else, found their seats.

"The Minister— but why— ? I don't understand—"

But there was no time to discuss the matter; a second later, Mr. Weasley had appeared out of thin air at the gate, accompanied by Rufus Scrimgeour, instantly recognizable by his mane of grizzled hair. The two newcomers marched across the yard toward the garden and the lantern-lit table, where everybody sat in silence, watching them draw closer.

"Sorry to intrude," said Scrimgeour, as he limped to a halt before the table. "Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party." His eyes lingered for a moment on the giant Snitch cake. "Many happy returns."

"Thanks," said Harry.

"I require a private word with you," Scrimgeour went on. "Also with Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger."

"Us?" said Ron, sounding surprised. "Why us?"

"I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private," said Scrimgeour. "Is there such a place?" he demanded of Mr. Weasley.

"Yes, of course," said Mr. Weasley, who looked nervous. "The, er, sitting room, why don't you use that?"

"You can lead the way," Scrimgeour said to Ron. "There will be no need for you to accompany us, Arthur."

Ban shifted on Lyra's left, they sat quietly and as the minutes ticked by Ban was becoming more rigid. His head snapped back towards the Burrow, "No." he sighed in disbelief and raised his eyebrows. In the next minute Lyra watched Mr. and Mrs. Weasley run towards the house as shouting broke out from within.

"Ban?" Her brother shook her head, _"Ban"_ she hissed and squeezed his arm.

_"Not now Lyra."_ His voice was as quiet as the wind, Lyra leant over the table to look around Charlie on her right and watched the Minister stride across the yard and disappear into the night.

When the others finally returned to the garden, three objects were passed from hand to hand. Everyone exclaimed over the Deluminator and The Tales of Beedle the Bard and lamented the fact that Scrimgeour had refused to pass on the sword, but none of them could offer any suggestion as to why Dumbledore would have left Harry an old Snitch. Lyra ignored the way color rose to Charlie's face when she leant into him, bushing her chest against his shoulder to take the snitch from Ron while he inspected the book. Fred and George grinned wildly when they caught their older brother watching her as she held the small gold ball up to the light, Ban groaned and glared at the older Weasley brother.

"Control yourself Lyra." Ban whispered and she held her hand her her mouth as she giggled, Charlie pulled at the collar of his shirt and Fred and George seemed to be enjoying the way their older brother was acting toward her. Mr. Weasley examined the Deluminator for the third or fourth time, and Mrs. Weasley said tentatively, "Harry, dear, everyone's awfully hungry, we didn't like to start without you... Shall I serve dinner now?"

"The Weasley brother's seem to have an appetite for something other than supper." Ban scoffed and Lyra swatted his shoulder as he laughed.

They all ate rather hurriedly, Charlie accidentally knocked his drink onto Lyra's lap, who in hindsight shouldn't have been trying to seduce Fred and George from across the table. They were more than amused with her efforts, the unbuttoning of her blouse and the away she licked the frosting from her fingers.

She had honestly forgotten that Charlie was sat beside her until his drink seeped into her skirt, she laughed when he apologized profusely and he tired to dab it from her skirt, only to have Fred and George clear the mess with a wave of their wands and a pair of smirks.

"I'm Charlie by the way, Bill's brother."

"Oh, I know." Lyra smiled and offered him he hand, "Lyra Piers, this is my brother Ban." She leant back a bit and Ban raised his chin but didn't look at Charlie as he chewed slowly.

She smiled at Charlie as the party ended and Ban seemed to pull himself from the table immediately. Hagrid, who was invited to the wedding the following day, but was far too bulky to sleep in the overstretched Burrow, left to set up a tent for himself in a neighboring field. Charlie continued to apologize and tucked in her chair behind her. "It's fine, no harm. George and Freddie didn't even bat an eye the whole dinner. They actually looked pretty amused." Lyra laughed, "Which is funny, I usually catch them glaring at Ron and even Harry sometimes."

"Why would they glare at them?"

"Oh," Lyra chuckled nervously, "Well... because I'm- dating them?"

Charlie turned beat red and apologized again, "Which one?"

"Which one what?"

"Are you dating Fred or George?" Lyra's cheeks reddened and when Gabrielle and Fleur pulled her back towards the Burrow, she held up two fingers.

"Both." She called back and Charlie's face turned scarlet. Lyra spared a glance at Ban who was following lamely after Harry, Ron and Hermione up the many stairs to Ron's bedroom.

❧

"Souhaitez-vous essayer à nouveau le troisième?" Lyra nodded, no longer having the energy to put up a fight with the bride to be, and let Fleur help her out of her current dress and into the third option, for the sixth time. It was a soft, petal pink strapless gown, "Belle."

"Comme une princesse." Gabrielle smiled widely from the bed and Ginny seemed to glow at the sight and nodded her approval.

"I'm sure they're complementing you, you look amazing in that!"

"'Ze color does not go wit ze wedding." Fleur frowned and pursed her lips, again, and Lyra laughed.

"That's why I wanted to wear this one. Because I know Fred and George are wearing," Lyra hung the long taupe dress on Ginny's curtain rod and adjusted the long skirt of it so the gold butterflies fluttered at the base. "I thought this one fit the best with the whole theme of your wedding."

"Princcesse." Ban leant against the now open doorframe and tossed his head back over his shoulder. "Want to take a walk?"

"Sure... I'll change, they seem to think I should wear this to the we—"

"You should wear that one." Ginny pointed to the taupe dress and Fleur and her sister nodded their agreement.

"It's settled then, unanimous vote for the butterflies. Come on then." Said Ban with a smile. She excused herself and Fleur lowered her voice to a whisper as she turned to Ginny, who for the first time seemed no to me annoyed with the conversation.

"Were you trying your clothes on too? Putting on a show for Ron and Harry?" Ban smiled and helped his sister down the stairs.

"Shoes?" Lyra gave him a sideways glance and he laughed. "Right. But no, no, I was trying to show the others how to tie an Eldredge knot." He shrugged, shoved his fingertips into his pockets and slip his thumbs through his belt loops. "Boys got lost and I gave up."

"Where's your tie then?"

"I don't wear ties, Lala, you know that."

"Where are we going?" Lyra stumbled a bit and Thuban wrapped her arm through his and patted her hand. "Just a walk. House is getting pretty crowded, and then tomorrow with all the guests..." Ban shivered a bit, "I'd enjoy some silence." They lapped the property three times by the time Ban spoke again, "You've been better lately. The first few days had me worried."

"I'm trying not to blame Harry, and to not be annoyed with Fred and George anymore. I know it was the right thing to do, but I don't have to be happy with them risking their lives for the fucking _dick._ "

Ban laughed shrewdly. "Your Slytherin is showing, Lala."

"Proudly." She grumbled, "Kind of miss talking shit about _Saint Potter_ with the girls." Lyra picked up the skirt of her dress as they began to climb the small hill towards the Quidditch pitch. "I miss Pansy a lot, she was fun. When she wasn't being rude." She gave a small chuckle, "But I suppose now I know that most of the things the Slytherins thought of Ron, Harry and Hermione was just based off of their jealousy." She shrugged and stared at the sky, Lyra could see the tree's in the moonlight that was amplified brilliantly off of the marquee. "Green is a predominant color in a Slytherin's wardrobe you know." Ban hummed in agreement, "I'm not going to apologize for wanting to hurt him, just as I don't expect him to apologize for thinking the worst of me. Or for him to forgive me about keeping the things I knew about Malfoy to myself." They walked slowly through the orchard, smiling at the sweet scent of the fallen apples as they moved further from the house. "Is it safe to be out here? Where's the boundary?"

"Scared Lala?" Lyra could feel her eyes watering.

"Who wouldn't be." She watched her bare feet as she walked through the soft grass, her white nails shining as she kicked her feet out from the skirt unnecessarily.

"You need to learn how to stow your temper better, little sister." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm older than you."

"You're tiny Lala. I said little, not younger." Ban chuckled, "But... you know, I many not always be there to project happy memories into that thick skull of yours."

"And why not?" Lyra pouted and tightened her hold on her brother, "You're stuck with me. Born together die together Thuban, only this time you get to go first." She dropped her skirt and showed held her pinky finger up in front of her face as she smiled up at him, "You can't break a pinky promise. That's some ancient magic worth more to me than an Unbreakable Vow."

"You're ridiculous." Ban laughed as he shook his head, he slowed to a stop and looked back towards the Burrow. Lyra followed her brother's gaze and stared at the gold flags atop the marquee and then past them into Ginny's room. It was dark, but she could see out onto the bright landing, her eyes trailed over the small home and she smiled. "You love them that much, huh?"

"I didn't give you permission to poke around in my head BonBon." His lips quirked at the nickname, she rarely used it anymore. "And I'm not particularly in the mood to rip Harry's throat out, so you don't belong in my head." Lyra smirked up at her brother who rolled his eyes, she tossed her head a bit before staring back towards the house and nodded slowly as a smile split her face. "But you already know how much I love them, because you've been in my head. In my memories, helping me re-live the happiest ones I had. And all but four were memories of Fred and George."

"Well that's good to hear."

"I thought we might've been setting ourselves up to be made fools of." Lyra giggled and turned around towards their voices.

"If you wanted me alone, you could have just asked. I've been trying to be with you all night."

"We know." They said in unison.

"Where are you?" She stepped from her brother and frowned, "Ban did you bring your wand? I didn't think—" her heart began to race when no one answered. "Ban?" Lyra's voice cracked. "George? Fred?" Lyra looked to the sky and frowned at the large cloud that seemed to cover the moon completely, throwing her into darkness.

Her mind felt wobbly and then another memory was brought to the surface, only it wasn't hers. Lyra stood and watching herself leave the room at the Lake House, Fred shifted uncomfortably and then glanced back up towards her Mother's portrait. "She has grown so beautifully. I wish I had more time with my lyre, what I wouldn't do for another lifetime to be spent with my children." There was a long pause and then her mother spoke again, "Tell me. How did the two of _you_ come to know my masterpiece? Surely not through your cousins."

George frowned and shook his head, "Your son, Thuban, is close friends with our younger brother, Ron, he told our mother that they were going to spend Christmas alone. Mum invited them immediately."

Her mother's portrait blinked slowly and smiled warmly, "What a lovely woman to open her home to two strangers." Despite her smile her eyes shimmered with tears, "Two children with no Mother of their own to welcome them home." She sat straighter in her large throne and looked down at Fred and George. "It was love at first sight yes? Lyra used all of the magics I have given her to enchant you, yes?"

"Not at all." Fred smiled. "Lyra was sad, and it made me almost ill to see it. My brother and I just wanted to make her laugh. And when she did..." Fred shook his head as he searched for the right word, "well, it was the beginning of the end for us. She laughed and we knew, even if Lyra said she didn't want us, that she was it for us. We would have loved your daughter even if she chose another. "

Her mother closed her eyes as if she tried to picture Lyra laughing, "We love your daughter, Ma'am. Not because of who or what she is." Her eyes snapped open and hardened on George as he spoke, "Being half Veela might have been what pulled us towards her, but it wouldn't have been enough to make us stay." There was a bang and Lyra shouted indistinctly.

"You really love my daughter?" her mother leant forward.

"Of course."

"You swear this to me?"

"I think I speak for both of us when I say yes." Fred smiled, "Why else would we put up with her attitude?" He gave a chuckled and her mother laughed loudly.

"Like her mother, yes? Fire runs through our veins!" She clapped and slid from her chair and gestured for them to come closer.

Lyra smiled when she returned to the dark night, "I didn't know you spoke with her. You didn't tell me." The twins didn't answer and she stepped forward. "Accio Wand." It took almost a minute for her want to whiz into her outstretched hand and in an instant she summoned a small flame over her head. "What are you—" Lyra laughed and then turned to look for her brother. "Come on," Lyra stepped forward, "you got me. It's really mean, but you got me." Lyra stepped closer to Fred and George who each knelt in the soft grass, dressed in bottom downs and slacks. Fred reached into his pocket so slowly. "No."

"Lyra—" started George,

"No." Lyra shook her head.

Fred's smile widened, "Astarte—"

"No, you're not serious right now." She whispered and held her locket tightly, she frowned down at the pair. "This isn't funny."

"Piers." Finished George, and he raised his hand to open the small wooden box his brother offered up to her, "Months ago in this spot,"

"Well that spot over there." Fred interjected and jutted his chin out to indicate the top of the hill, Lyra laughed nervously.

"Only now, there is no way you can mistake me for Fred." Lyra laughed again as she remembered the cold Christmas night with George's arm wrapped around her waist. "We watched my parents dance in the kitchen and I told you that I hoped to find a love like their's one day." Lyra was shaking her head and the twins nodded happily, "I've never met anyone like you, and I know for a fact that I never will again. And frankly, I don't think I would last a second without you in my life."

"You're crazy." Lyra laughed and grabbed their elbows to pull them to their feet, "Both of you... you just turned twenty." Lyra shook her head. "We have our whole lives for this, we never even talked about marriage—"

"So you don't—" Fred's face fell as he looked down at her.

"No, I mean I do—," Lyra shook her head.

"Lyra, the world could be ending and it would be an honor to call you my wife."

"How would this even work?" Lyra looked up at them, "We invite all your family to watch me marry both of you?"

George chuckled, "Just say yes." The twins brought the box toward her and she looked down at it finally.

She brought a trembling hand to her mouth as she gasped, "Where did you—"

"Your mother gave it to us."

"Well, she told us where to find it. Hidden in the music room, waiting for you." George clarified.

"She said that this ring has been in her family for a thousand years," Lyra blinked back tears, "Your Mother said, that you deserved the best." Lyra was shaking as she stared down at her mother's wedding ring, "Say yes... say yes to us,"

George cleared his throat, "You said that we were willing to die, but we're telling you that we are willing to live... that we want to live with you for all the years to come, Lyra." He smiled down at her, "Say yes to our lives together. Say yes to forever." Lyra nodded slowly.

"Verbal confirmation, Darling." Lyra laughed loudly as she blinked her tears of her eyes.

"Yes. Of course yes! A thousand times yes! I'd marry you in a heartbeat." She stared up at them as they closed the box. "What— why?" They each produced another box from their other hand and popped the tops open.

"We didn't want to share this ring." Fred smiled.

"It means too much and we should each be represented on your hand."

"Oh my god." Lyra wiped her wet cheeks and watched Fed push his ring onto her finger, then together they lead her mother's ring onto her finger, and finally, George slid an identical ring to Fred's up her finger. "Are you sure?" Lyra tried her best not to cry, "I mean we can wait, we don't have to—" she shook her head and laughed nervously, "oh god. Fleur's going to think I want to upstage her. She was so worried I was going to wear white and now _this_?"

"She knows."

"What?" Lyra pulled her eyes away from the gorgeous rings on her finger.

"They know."

"Come again?" Lyra laughed, "Who's they? Ginny? Ban?"

"We asked your brother for his permission."

"You did what?" Lyra wiped her face, "You don't even _like_ him."

"We love you." Said Fred easily. "Now, are you going to stand there all night? Or will you come dance with your fiancés." He held his hand out and when she took it he lead her to George.

"You look beautiful." He grabbed her waist and held her hand gently as they swayed to the sound of the crickets. "I've never seen anyone more beautiful than you Lyra." He glanced up at the night sky and smiled, "Even the stars pale in comparison to you." Lyra laughed and laid her head against George's chest. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Scaring you." Lyra looked up at George, but he was staring at the sky again.

"You did the right thing." He looked down at her, confused, "Ban has been feeding me more of Harry's memories— don't tell him. But I understand quite a bit now." George moved his hand from hers and grabbed her waist firmly as he kissed her. "Wow." Lyra's whole body was hot, "Maybe I should have been team Harry sooner, if that's how you kiss people who follow him."

"Not people..." he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, "just you." He kissed her again, "Only you." Lyra hummed at his gentle touches, he cupped her chin tenderly and pulled her lips to his. "For the rest of our lives it will only ever be you." Lyra moaned when a second pair of hands were on her waist and smiled against George's kiss.

"Mind if I cut in?" George stared down at Lyra as her eyes fluttered open, "I'd like to dance with my future bride now." With a look of reluctance George let Fred spin her into him. "What are these from?" He dragged his finger slowly up her arm as he wrapped them around his neck, he smiled devilishly down at her as more goosebumps rose across her body. "Thank you."

"Hmm?" Lyra ran her finger's through Fred's hair slowly as he lent to press his forehead against hers.

"Thank you, for saying yes."

"How could I say no?" She smiled, "Your speech was very compelling." Fred smiled and dipped his head to kiss her. As always, he kissed her as if she would disappear from his arms in a heartbeat, "Fred?"

"Hmm?" He kissed down her face and then nibbled her neck. Fred jerked her onto her toes and gripped her ass firmly.

"Stop." Lyra chuckled, "Ban could still be here."

"He isn't" said Fred, and then he captured her into another kiss that made her whole body catch fire. "It wouldn't matter anyway."

"And why's that?"

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life." Lyra heard a pop and Fred kissed her again, he spun and she was pulled alongside him, her stomach swooped and her head pounded when her feet met solid ground again. "Where—" Lyra chuckled at the sight of the twins 'Burrow', "Is it safe to be here?" Fred bent and scooped Lyra into his arms, "Put me down will you?" He took the few steps up to the bed and laid her gently into it. "So this was your plan?" Lyra sat up on her elbows and shook her head.

"Hard to find privacy in a house full of people." Said George as he climbed onto the bed.

"Especially with the way you scream for us." Lyra sighed as they ran their hands up her body, Fred kissed her neck and George seized her lips.

Lyra knelt between Fred's legs and kissed him as George undid her dress, "Don't leave marks!" Lyra hissed and pushed closer to Fred who laid back so she would fall onto him. "I have an open back on my dress for the wedding."

❧

Lyra laid, entangled, with Fred and George as they stroked her sensitive skin. They had ignored her demands and her stomach and thighs were speckled with pink marks, thankfully they avoided her neck, shoulders and back. "Who did you mean by they?"

"Hmm?" Lyra pulled herself up and held her head in her hand so she could look at the twins together. "What do you mean?"

"You said "they know." Who's they?"

"Thuban, Fleur and Bill. Remus and Tonks guessed, some Werewolf thing I suppose..." George brushed his hand through his hair and then put his arm behind his head as he stoked his knuckles lightly over her shoulder.

"I told Mum and Dad." Fred chuckled, "They congratulated us but... their faces said they though it was odd to share a wife. Mum think's we're too young."

"I agree." Lyra sat on her knees and pulled the sheet over her chest, "But since you both are so eager to join the fight, I know your reasoning." Lyra stared down at her rings and smiled, "Besides, you're the first men I've met who haven't gone insane from being around me for too long."

"What do you mean?"

"Well Ban said it best I guess," She tried to remember what he told the other back in Hogwarts and frowned, "Basically, anyone I've ever even kissed became obsessive and did some pretty extreme things to try and win my affections. This one boy, Tod, he was with me when I came of age, so to speak. He was my friend, just a friend, and I was telling him how I thought a boy from the Horned Serpent House was cute. The next day Tod's breaking the boy's arm in the yard, professing his undying love for me. When I turned him down, he attacked me," Lyra moved the sheet to the side and their eyes fell on the small scars on her ribcage, "Pushed me through a window." Lyra chuckled, "Ban beat the crap out of that poor boy, we were I don't know, twelve or thirteen and I suddenly looked like this," she gestured to her body, "and was overflowing with magic. I couldn't control it back then like I can now, I mean I couldn't really control it much until I got to Hogwarts and was forced to come to terms with it... But when it happened I was sent home for a few months, my Aunts all came to congratulate me, all but Cassiopeia, she was a master potioneer and helped me develop the potion I took from then on." Lyra shrugged.

"Why'd you stop." Fred's eyebrow's knitted together, "You told us about the potion before but why did you stop taking it?"

"Oh, well... Malfoy Obliviated me and basically put the thought in my head. He liked my long silvery hair, I hated it really, preferred it brown."

"We've never seen it brown." Lyra shrugged.

"I don't mind it anymore, I like it like this and I can control my magic now you know. Well, most of the time anyways, and I suppose _control_ is a strong word..." She sighed, "Besides, when I would get mad or scared the potion starts to wear off quicker, and it really is vial to drink... and the Shrieking Shack was creepy." Lyra shrugged, "The list goes on really, and if my Mom was here I'm sure she'd want me to embrace my heritage."

"What do you mean by controlling your magic."

"Well Veela are born _of_ magic, not _with_ magic. According to my Aunts, well some of them, they can turn into like... bird creature things... you know like the Veela mascots for the Bulgarian Quidditch team. Not all of them can do it though, I doubt Madame Delacour can, well she's not even half, right?" Lyra scratched her forehead, "You already know what I can do with my... you know when I'm..." Lyra flushed, "And well, when I'm angry my body kind of gets hot."

"That's pretty common Lyra." Fred sat straighter on the bed.

"No, like burning to the touch hot." She looked at George, "I burned your hand when you got your ear cursed off, remember."

"Is that why your brother had your wand? You were angry?"

"Oh yeah," Lyra laughed and clapped her hands in front of her, "I've been practicing with it since then, want to see?" The twins nodded and she rubbed her hands together and then tucked her elbows at her side. "Give it a bit, obviously I'm not mad." She closed her eyes and rubbed her her fingers together, "See?" Lyra smiled and stared at her smoking hands, "Just wait, I made a fireball for a bit yesterday."

"That's good for now," Lyra stared at her hands as the smoke rose, "Don't want to catch the tree on fire," Fred touched her wrist and then recoiled.

"I told you my body gets hot." He blew on his fingertips and George laughed at him.

"Git." Lyra looked at the uneven stream of smoke from her left hand.

"That's... new." She shook her hands and tried to will the heat to subside.

"That's strange." Said George, leaning forward, "Could have sworn that stone was pink last time I saw it."

"I thought it was more of an orange than a pink." Fred frowned and the twins stared down at the light green stone.

"It's tourmaline." Lyra shook her head, "Mom didn't tell you? It can look different, the colors shift when the amount of light is different. It's considered the Witches Stone because it's supposed to help enhance power." Lyra touched the two bands and smiled, "Did she recommend these gems too?" She touched the almost identical bands and frowned, "I'm assuming she at least recommended the moonstone, "fire runs through our veins,"" Lyra smiled, "My mother enjoyed her jewelry and prided herself with the pure number of facts on gemstones, she would have suggested a stone to help settle my fire, bring balance alongside the tourmaline that will energize it. It's beautiful George." Lyra adjusted the band that held many small moonstones that shone ethereally in the candlelight of the 'Burrow', "Now, I'm sure she wouldn't have said anything about opal, they are fire stones." Lyra looked coyly up at Fred, "Why opals?"

"Actually," Fred leant forward and tucked her hair behind her ear before holding her hand gently and running his thumb over her rings, "White opals aren't firestones, and," he sat back against the headboard, "I preferred them over getting the same band as my brother. Similar in color, really pretty, but completely different."

"Where did you two find the time to get these?"

"Popped into London and scoured the city for the perfect rings, you didn't even notice with your attitude and day drinking." Fred chuckled.

"Fleur also pleasantly distracted you for hours on end." Added George. "Didn't even notice we were gone."

"Devils. Both of you." She smiled, "You two really are something else, I—" But Lyra was cut off by a bright silver-blue light from behind her, she glanced over her shoulder as the twins groaned. A fully corporal horse stood, cramped, in the small room of the 'Burrow'.

"Mom's having a fit." Said Ginny's voice, "You should come home quickly before she has a heart attack." In a blink the large animal disappeared the the room was left lit only by the candles. Lyra barely turned back to the twins when the room illuminated again, this time with a large, thin dog.

"Ginny's over reacting." It said in Thuban's voice, the deerhound sighed, "But I would hurry home. I told Mrs. Weasley you were in the orchard still. I'd come quickly... she's looking like she might be heading out to check on you... Mrs. Weasley do you need help with the dishes?" The large dog disappeared and Lyra slid from the bed to send her own Patronus to her brother.

"I didn't know you could produce a Patronus."

"Can't you?" Lyra stepped into the dress and shimmied it up her body, with a wave of her wand it fitted itself together. "Wasn't that Ginny's? I just assumed."

"We can." Fred pulled his trousers on quickly and looked for his shirt. "Harry taught us before we left Hogwarts."

"What is it?"

"What is yours?" George buttoned his shirt loosely and smiled, "You sent it so quickly all I saw was a blur."

"A raven."

"Magpies." Said Fred as he pulled his arms through the sleeves of his button up and raked both his hands messily through his hair, before stepping forward to kiss Lyra again.

"Magpies?" She breathed as her eyes fluttered open, she licked her lips slowly and stared up at Fred.

"Birds. Clever little things." Lyra flushed and Fed spun on his heel and Diapparated.

George was next and then Lyra followed. "Ow." Lyra groaned when she landed on a hard, unripe apple.

"Come on then." George squatted and Lyra laughed.

"No way. I'm in a dress."

"It's either that or I carry you in a less dignified manor." Fred smirked.

"I'm fine." Lyra moved past them and sucked her teeth when she stepped on a branch, "I just need a bit more light." Lyra squealed when Fred tossed her over his shoulder. "Come on, put me down!" She giggled and he hopped to adjust her on his shoulder.

George smiled widely, "Should have took my offer, love."

"Help me down then." She laughed and held her hand out for George. Fred spanked her as she squirmed, "Hey!"

"I love you. But I'm going to let him have his fun." George stooped his head a bit when they were closer to the house and chuckled, "You're turning pink."

"I'm not meant to be hanging like this now am I?" Lyra yelped again when Fred swung her easily around him to cradle her in his arms.

"Better?" He kissed her cheek and Lyra pouted.

"No." George jogged ahead of them and held the back door open.

"Liar." He kissed her again as he stepped over the threshold.

"Lyra!" Ban was on his feet in seconds, "What happened?"

"Just stepped on a branch." She squirmed and Fred set her down, "He insisted on carrying me, despite my protests." She scratched her eyebrow and watched as Thuban's eyes followed her hand, she cleared her throat, "Alright then, goodnight." She glanced in the sitting room where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have been sleeping and smiled, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Dear." Said Mrs. Weasley with a bubbly smile.

"Goodnight Lyra." Mr. Weasley watched as his sons joined her on the stairs.

"Don't," she batted at his hand when Fred touched her lower back, "I'll hex your whole hand off." She giggled after the twins winked at her when she glared down at them.


	6. Chapter 6- The Wedding

Three o’clock on the following afternoon Lyra found Harry, Ron, Ban, Fred, and George standing outside the great white marquee in the orchard, awaiting the arrival of the wedding guests. Harry had taken a large dose of Polyjuice Potion and was now the double of a redheaded Muggle boy from the local village, from whom Fred had stolen hairs using a Summoning Charm. The plan was to introduce Harry as “Cousin Barny” and use the great number of Weasley relatives to camouflage him.

All five of them were clutching seating plans, so that they could help show people to the right seats. A host of white-robed waiters had arrived an hour earlier, along with a golden-jacketed band, and all of these wizards were currently sitting a short distance away under a tree; Lyra could see a blue haze of pipe smoke issuing from the spot, could smell wafting towards her on the wind. She held her stomach for a moment to settle it as it twisted with the smell and then soared at the sight of Fred and George.

Behind the group of men, who were laughing loudly as Ban jostled Ron’s shoulders, the entrance to the marquee revealed rows and rows of fragile golden chairs set on either side of a long purple carpet. The supporting poles were entwined with white and gold flowers. Fred and George had fastened an enormous bunch of golden balloons over the exact point where Bill and Fleur would shortly become husband and wife. Outside, butterflies and bees were hovering lazily over the grass and hedgerow; Lyra noted that Harry looked rather uncomfortable. The Muggle boy whose appearance he was affecting was slightly fatter than him, and his dress robes looked a touch too tight to even be consider comfortable in the heat.

“When I get married,” said Fred, tugging at the collar of his own robes, “I won’t be bothering with any of this nonsense. You can all wear what you like, and I’ll put a full Body-Bind Curse on Mum until it’s all over.” Ban caught Lyra’s eye over Fred’s shoulder and smirked coyly as Lyra rolled her eyes as she stepped closer to the twins, with every step she took the enchanted gold butterflies fluttered on the bottom hem of her dress and tickled her shins.

“She wasn’t too bad this morning, considering,” said George. “Cried a bit about Percy not being here, but who wants him? Oh blimey, brace yourselves — here they come, look.”

Brightly colored figures were appearing, one by one, out of nowhere at the distant boundary of the yard. Within minutes a procession had formed, which began to snake its way up through the garden toward the marquee. Exotic flowers and bewitched birds fluttered on the witches’ hats, while precious gems glittered from many of the Wizards’ cravats; a hum of excited chatter grew louder and louder, drowning the sound of the bees as the crowd approached the tent.

“Excellent, I think I see a few Veela cousins,” said George, craning his neck for a better look, Ban stifled a chuckle as Lyra stood between the twins, just behind their shoulders— just out of view.

“They’ll need help understanding our English customs, I’ll look after them...”

“That so?” Lyra couldn’t contain her laugh as she made Fred and George jump. George winked down at her and stepped forward to help the women.

“Not so fast, Your Holeyness,” said Fred, and darted past the gaggle of middle-aged Witches heading the procession, he said, “Here— permettez-moi to assister vous,” to a pair of pretty French girls, who giggled and allowed him to escort them inside. Fred shot Lyra a cheeky smile and a wink as he lead them to their seats.

George was left to deal with the middle-aged witches, “Jokes on him, I like my women like I like my wine.” Lyra snorted and George kissed the corner of her mouth as he joined the women and offered to be their escort. Ron took charge of Mr. Weasley’s old Ministry colleague Perkins, while a rather deaf old couple fell to Harry’s lot.

Ban offered his arm to another group of Veela who he complemented and conversed flawlessly in French. Fred was the first to return and he offered her his arm, “I was just joking about the wedding.” Lyra blushed, “I can’t wait for our wedding. We can have it whatever you want. Do it up however you like, as soon as you’re ready.” He beamed as they walked down the isle together.

“They way you just rushed all of that out, it’s as if you’d like to do it today.” Fred lead her to the second row on the bride’s side, directly in front of the group of Veela cousins Thuban had lead to their seats.

“I would have married you last night when you accepted.” Fred knelt in front of her and fixed the skirt of her dress. The butterflies on her skirt jittered and fluttered, casting golden rays over Fred’s face as he stared up at her ,“Should we have the officiant stay and marry us in secret?” Lyra blushed and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered in time to the ones on her dress. “I want to call you my wife as soon as possible,” Ron lead a old witch into a row across the isle, “and you look so absolutely beautiful... that I don’t think I can handle another second of not having you as my wife.”

The girls behind her giggled and she glanced up when George came closer, his disinterested expression shifted to something of pure joy when his gaze rested on her. “Oh my, you are a vision.” He tipped her chin up and the girls gasped behind her when placed a light kiss on her lips.

“Enough you two. Don’t you have a job to do.” Fred was staring at her hand longingly and adjusted the rings on her her finger with his thumb.

“That we do!” George hauled Fred to his feet by the back of his robes, he didn’t let go of Lyra’s hand until Fred’s fingers tips were pulled over hers, leaving both of their arms outstretched and gently reaching for one another.

“Oh ‘ow rumantik!” One of the girl’s sighed at the twins left, Lyra turned to watch them leave and the girls behind her leant forward, “Cousin, you ‘ave two?” Lyra nodded shyly, “‘Ze three ov you are to be marries yes?”

“Oh... yes, eventually.”

“‘Ow wonderful!” Lyra smiled and nodded as she stared towards the entrance and listened to Fed and George’s loud laughter. In the next moment Harry, or rather Cousin Barney, was leading a dark-haired young man with a large, curved nose and thick black eyebrows down the isle and to the seat beside Lyra.

His appearance was causing a stir, particularly amongst the Veela cousins behind her and Lyra stared forward, admiring how beautiful everything was “Vinagi da se vdiga shum.” The man sighed, Lyra chuckled and tried to cover it with a cough.

“Ne vizhdam nito edna prichina za vŭlnenie.” Lyra smiled to herself and the man raised one of his thick eyebrows in surprise as he grinned down at her. “Lyra Piers.” She held out her hand and he raised it to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Viktor Krum.”

“Are you Fleur’s family?” Lyra frowned, “I didn’t think her father was Bulgarian, seemed extremely—” Lyra fished for the right word but settled for one that was familiar, “French.”

“No, ve are friends. Fleur and I participated in the Tri Vizard Tournament together.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about that.”

“Are you not her family?” He was staring at her hair and she shook her head with a laugh.

“No. No, I’m with the groom’s family,” Lyra was blushing under his intense stare, “Nadyavam se, che ste nauchili, che ne sŭm frenski. Vŭpreki che znam ezika.”

“Otkŭde ste v Bŭlgariya”

“New York.” Lyra laughed, “My mother was from Bulgaria though, my Uncle’s raised me to know her language, so I could talk freely with her sisters.”

“Smart man, your Uncle.” Lyra glanced past Viktor, who was smiling flirtatiously, and watched as Fred and George took their seats next to two empty chairs reserved for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the front row across the isle. They did a double take when they noticed her companion and how he was hanging on her every word. Lyra swallowed her magic and raised a flirtatiously challenging eyebrow, which made the brothers smirk and sit back in their chairs.

A sense of jittery anticipation had filled the warm tent, the general murmuring broken by occasional spurts of excited laughter. Lyra whipped her wand once, against her thigh, and waved the gorgeous fan it had been transfigured into slowly, the gold butterflies fluttered across the fan and her seating partner looked impressed. Viktor sat with a smug, boastful expression as the remainder of the seats filled around them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley strolled up the aisle, smiling and waving at relatives; Mrs. Weasley was wearing a brand-new set of amethyst-colored robes with a matching hat.

A moment later Bill and Charlie stood up at the front of the marquee, both wearing dress robes, with large white roses in their buttonholes; Fred wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of giggling from the Veela cousins. Then, the crowd fell silent as music swelled from what seemed to be the golden balloons.

“She’s beautiful.” Lyra whispered as she turned to look at the entrance. A great collective sigh issued from the assembled Witches and Wizards as Monsieur Delacour and Fleur came walking up the aisle, Fleur gliding, Monsieur Delacour bouncing and beaming. Fleur was wearing a very simple white dress and seemed to be emitting a strong, silvery glow. Ginny and Gabrielle, both wearing golden dresses, looked even prettier than usual, and once Fleur had reached him, Bill did not look as though he had ever met Fenrir Greyback.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said a slightly singsong voice, and with a slight shock, Lyra saw the same small, tufty-haired wizard who had presided at Dumbledore’s funeral, now standing in front of Bill and Fleur. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls...”

Lyra glanced from the pair to Fred and George who each gave her a wink. Ginny glanced around, grinning, winked at Harry, then quickly faced the front again.

“Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle... ?”

In the front rows, Mrs. Weasley and Madame Delacour were both sobbing quietly into scraps of lace. Trumpetlike sounds from the back of the marquee told everyone that Hagrid had taken out one of his own tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs. Hermione turned and beamed at Harry; her eyes too were full of tears and Lyra glanced up at Viktor who’s face was alight with joy; as if it were his own sister getting married.

“...then I declare you bonded for life.”

The tufty-haired wizard waved his wand high over the heads of Bill and Fleur and a shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiraling around their now entwined figures. As Fred and George led a round of applause, the golden balloons overhead burst: Birds of paradise and tiny golden bells flew and floated out of them, adding their songs and chimes to the din.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” called the tufty-haired wizard. “If you would please stand up!”

They all did so. Viktor offered a hand to Lyra who took it as she steadied herself on her heels and fixed her dress; the small wizard waved his wand again. The seats on which they had been sitting rose gracefully into the air as the canvas walls of the marquee vanished, so that they stood beneath a canopy supported by golden poles, with a glorious view of the sunlit orchard and surrounding countryside. Next, a pool of molten gold spread from the center of the tent to form a gleaming dance floor; the hovering chairs grouped themselves around small, white-clothed tables, which all floated gracefully back to earth around it, and the golden—jacketed band trooped toward a podium.

The waiters popped up on all sides, some bearing silver trays of Pumpkin Juice, Butterbeer, and FireWhiskey, others tottering piles of tarts and sandwiches. Lyra had lost sight of Fred and George as the guests began to move and socialize, Viktor offered her his arm, “Shall ve find a table?”

“Sure.” The Veela cousins giggled to themselves and Viktor lead Lyra around the room. He stopped abruptly and Lyra tripped forward, Viktor caught her effortlessly and Lyra brushed a stray curl out of her face. “Thank you, I didn’t expect you to stop.” The band had begun to play. Bill and Fleur took to the dance floor first, to great applause; after a while, Mr. Weasley led Madame Delacour onto the floor, followed by Mrs. Weasley and Fleur’s father.

“I ‘ave spotted Hermyonie.” Viktor smiled and lead Lyra towards the table. Ron was smiling widely, but the smile vanished from his face when Viktor dropped into a vacant seat. Hermione looked pleasurably flustered, and with a scowl on his face Viktor said, “Who is that man in the yellow?”

“That’s Xenophilius Lovegood, he’s the father of a friend of ours,” said Ron. His pugnacious tone indicated that they were not about to laugh at Xenophilius, despite the clear provocation. “Come and dance,” he added abruptly to Hermione. She looked taken aback, but pleased too, and got up and flashed a smile at Lyra. They vanished together into the growing throng on the dance floor and Lyra sank into Hermione’s seat beside Viktor and stared after them. She lifted a champagne flute from one of the waiter’s trays and sipped the delicious bubbles greedily.

“Ah, they are together now?” asked Viktor, momentarily distracted.

“Er — sort of,” said Harry, Lyra raised an eyebrow and cocked her head— she wouldn’t have guessed. Ron twirled Hermione and when he pulled her towards his chest he smiled widely as she tipped her head back and laughed, the sound masked barely by the music.

“Who are you?” Viktor asked.

“Barny Weasley.” They shook hands and Lyra chuckled to herself.

“You, Barny— you know this man Lovegood vell?”

“No, I only met him today. Why?”

Viktor glowered over the top of his drink, watching Xenophilius, who was chatting to several warlocks on the other side of the dance floor. “Because,” said Viktor, “if he vos not a guest of Fleur’s, I vould duel him, here and now, for vearing that filthy sign upon his chest.”

“Sign?” said Harry, Lyra followed Viktor’s harsh stare as it raked over Xenophilius. A strange triangular eye was gleaming on his chest.

“His necklace?” She questioned Viktor nodded curtly and Lyra watched her flute refill.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” Asked Harry as Lyra scanned the crowd for her men, or at least one of them. She smiled to a waiter when he offered her a tray of deserts, picked a cake but only of rite blackberry on top of it. She sucked the frosting off and dropped the berry in her champagne flute, it bubbled and fizzed soundly.

“Grindelvald. That is Grindelvald’s sign.”

“Grindelwald... the Dark wizard Dumbledore defeated?” Lyra choked on her drink, she didn’t know Dumbledore did anything like that. Certainly she’s heard of Grindelwald, he had seven whole lessons on him back in Ilvermorny— perhaps she should have paid more attention.

“Exactly.” Viktor’s jaw muscles worked as if he were chewing, then he said, “Grindelvald killed many people, my Grandfather, for instance. Of course, he vos never poverful in this country, they said he feared Dumbledore— and rightly, seeing how he vos finished. But this—” he pointed a finger at Xenophilius “—this is his symbol, I recognized it at vunce: Grindelvald carved it into a vall at Durmstrang ven he vos a pupil there. Some idiots copied it onto their books and clothes, thinking to shock, make themselves impressive— until those of us who had lost family members to Grindelvald taught them better.” Viktor cracked his knuckles menacingly and glowered at Xenophilius.

Lyra caught a glimpse of red hair and sighed, disappointedly, when she watched Charlie twirl a lovely witch dressed in pale green, when he dipped her her face flushed. He snapped her up quickly, her long black hair whipping around them both as he grinned devilishly down at her.

“Are you— er— quite sure it’s Grindelwald’s— ?” Asked Harry, Lyra ran her finger over the rim of her glass and listened to the long note the crystal sang as she watched the bubbles raise to the surface.

“I am not mistaken,” said Viktor coldly. “I valked past that sign for several years, I know it vell.”

“Well, there’s a chance,” said Harry, “that Xenophilius doesn’t actually know what the symbol means. The Lovegoods are quite... unusual. He could easily have picked it up somewhere and think that it’s a cross section of the head of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack or something.”

“The cross section of a vot?” Lyra smiled lightly and finished the flute, Viktor watched her raise her glass again to insect it as it filled its self to the brim. Lyra spared a glance at the two young men and then searched the crowd again for the ones who belonged to her.

“Well, I don’t know what they are, but apparently he and his daughter go on holiday looking for them...” Lyra watched as a bold Witch approached Charlie and his partner, her light brown hair braided elegantly and pinned with diamonds. He bowed away from his partner and accepted the new woman’s hand, Charlie tugged her close and placed his hand low on her back. “That’s her,” said Harry, pointing at Luna, who was still dancing alone, waving her arms around her head like someone attempting to beat off midges. Lyra smiled as Ban stood beside her with a wide smile, watching in awe as she spun in a circle.

“Vy is she doing that?” asked Viktor.

“Probably trying to get rid of a Wrackspurt,” said Harry. Viktor did not seem to know whether or not Harry was making fun of him and frowned when Lyra giggled. He drew his wand from inside his robes and tapped it menacingly on his thigh; sparks flew out of the end. “Gregorovitch!” said Harry loudly, Lyra and Viktor were startled, but Harry seemed too excited to care, Lyra tried to mop up the spilled drink as quickly as she could and grumbled her apologies.

“Vot about him?” asked Viktor suspiciously and with a wave of his wand the mess was cleared and her flute was refilled.

“He’s a wandmaker!”

“I know that,” said Viktor and Lyra glanced over her shoulder to thank him and he adverted his eyes from her backside, quickly, when he noticed her raised eyebrow. Lyra chuckled and sipped her drink as she sat, watching the other guest dance and waiting for a glimpse of either Fred or George.

“He made your wand! That’s why I thought— Quidditch—” Lyra craned her neck when she finally saw then and pursed her lips when she saw her twins surrounded by flirtatious relatives of Fleur. Viktor was looking more and more suspicious at “cousin Barny.”

“How do you know Gregorovitch made my vand?” Lyra watched Harry panic and with a sigh that came out more of a moan she let her magic slip from her and pour into the room.

“I... I read it somewhere, I think,” said Harry, he shivered slightly. “In a— a fan magazine,” Lyra watched Viktor’s hard gaze soften, he glanced at Lyra and she gave him a smile, batted her eyes at him as she relaxed her hold on her magic; Viktor seemed to puddle in his chair.

“I had not realized I ever discussed my vand with fans,” he said and tore his gaze from Lyra and settled it on Harry.

“So... er... where is Gregorovitch these days?” Lyra rolled her shoulders, swallowed her magic, and frowned when she could no longer find Fred or George in the crowd.

Viktor looked puzzled. “He retired several years ago. I vos one of the last to purchase a Gregorovitch vand. They are the best— although I know, of course, that you Britons set much store by Ollivander.”

“Ha— Barny did you see where Fred and George went?” Harry shook his head and Lyra fidgeted with her rings, when she glanced up again Viktor looked like a kicked puppy. He resulted in watching the dancers and Lyra sat back in her chair with a huff. “This girl is very nice-looking,” Viktor said, he was pointing at Ginny, who had just joined Luna and Ban, he had begun to spin with her. “She is also a relative of yours?”

“Yeah,” said Harry, “and she’s seeing someone. Jealous type. Big bloke. You wouldn’t want to cross him.” Viktor grunted and Lyra laughed loudly which earned a glare from Harry.

“Vot,” he said, draining his goblet and getting to his feet again, “is the point of being an International Quidditch player if all the good-looking girls are taken?”

“Would you care to dance with me? My dates seem to have disappeared.” Lyra sighed sadly and Viktor took pity on her. He stood and circled the table to bow in front of her and offer his hand. He spun her effortlessly towards the dance floor and when Thuban noticed them, his mouth dropped open. “So,” Lyra chuckled, “You play Quidditch?”

“Did you truly not know who I vas?” He raised a sly brow and she shook her head lightly.

“I don’t follow Quidditch.” Lyra held his shoulders as Victor lifted and spun her effortlessly, “But it looks like Ban does.” Lyra flushed as Viktor dipped her, his hand splayed over her bare back, his thumb stroking her skin slowly.

“Zis is your fiancé?”

“No. Gross.” He straightened her as Thuban approached, “My younger brother.” Ban’s mouth was still hanging open, “Thuban, but everyone calls him Ban.” Lyra chuckled and Viktor held the small of her back as he extended his other hand to her brother, “Ban this is—”

“Viktor Krum, of course!” Her brother shook Viktor’s hand vigorously and Lyra felt him move his hand lower on her bare back. “How could anyone not know you?”

“Vell, your sister seemed—”

“Lala doesn’t count! She never got into Quidditch.”

“I have recently become well versed in it actually. Extensive talks about old Quidditch match’s or how the teams in the Prophet are rubbish...” Lyra blushed and looked around the room again, she craned her neck and caught Fred’s eye as he laughed with a young Veela cousin of Fleur’s. Fred nudged George, who’s head snapped towards her, both brothers reddened and their smiles fell. Lyra raised a challenging eyebrow, “Went to most of the House matches.” She looked back at the men as Viktor reclaimed his hand. “Harry is an amazing Seeker. And Ginny is—”

“Krum is a Seeker too! Caught the Snitch in the 1994 Quidditch World Cup against the Irish, ‘to end the match on his terms’,” Ban seemed like a little kid, “brilliant.”

“I prefer Beaters.” Lyra muttered and reached for another champagne flute, tossed it back and set it on the tray before the waiter even took a step.

“I see you are a fan, yes?” Viktor smiled and Ban beamed.

“Since when?” Lyra snorted. “How do you know all of this?” Lyra glanced back towards the twins, but all she found was a group of disappointed Veelas.

“Where have you been, Darling?” Fred was at her side and Lyra turned her head to look up at him as he towered over her and Viktor. “Been looking all over for you.”

“Not hard enough, obviously, I was with Viktor and your cousin Barny.”

“Bar—” Lyra noticed Fred’s eyes harden on Viktor’s hand that had moved a bit higher at his appearance. He drummed his fingers lightly on her skin and laughed loudly at something Ban had said. “I see, cousin Barny.”

“Lyra, who is zis friend?” asked Viktor, Ban made an uncomfortable sound and Lyra chuckled.

“One of my fiancés.” Lyra smiled widely and Viktor removed his hand from her back, hiding it behind his own and then offered his other to Fred who shook it indifferently. “And this is my second.” Lyra smiled up at George when he stood next to Ban.

“Two?” Viktor looked impressed.

“Neobkhodimi sa poveche ot edin mŭzh, za da me zadovoli.” Lyra raked her eyes over the twins and Viktor’s ears turned red. Ban coughed and excused himself.

“Mozhete predstavya kato tvŭrd zhena da se molya.” Viktor offered his hand to George, “Congratulations on your engagement.”

“Thank you, I’m very happy with my choice.” Lyra smiled and the twins reddened when she answered for them. “Beshe mi priyatno da se zapoznaem. Nadyavam se da vi vidya otnovo.” Lyra grasped Fred and George’s hands and jerked them through the open sides of the tent. She grabbed another champagne flute before she slipped into the night, Fred and George trailed slowly after her.

“You know Viktor?”

“Met today.” Lyra finished her drink and the glass blinked from her hand, presumably back into the tent. “Nice guy, bit... touchy.”

“I could tell.” Fred’s voice was hard, Lyra gasped as she stumbled a bit on the hill.

“Seemed to get on well enough though.” Added George, it was getting harder to see them the further she lead them from the wedding.

“What did you say to him?” Lyra squealed when her back hit the crabapple tree as Fred spun her and backed them into it.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She stared up at Fred and George coyly as they closed the space. “I thought you two said you weren’t doing your hair for the wedding. You look so handsome.”

“ _Now_ you think we’re handsome?” Fred’s voice was a low grumble as the twins stopped merely inches from her as she leant against the tree.

“I’ve always thought you were handsome.” She grinned, “Ask Ginny.”

“And Krum?” George looked over his shoulder when he heard a man shout further away from the party.

“Not my type.”

“Seemed like you had a lot to say.”

“Are you jealous Fred?” Lyra licked her lips and smiled, “I think I should be jealous, leaving your new fiancée alone to talk flirt of Fleur’s cousins?” She exaggerated her sigh, “I guess you have a type then...” Lyra bit her lip to stop from giggling, “ _Veela._ ”

“What did you say to him Lyra?” George touched her shoulder and ran his fingers down her arm, she shivered at the contact. His voice was low, deep, and felt like velvet as it washed over her, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. “Care to translate?” She assumed that this— this feeling, what they were cooking out of her— was how her magic felt when she let it out. Lyra rolled her body slightly, angling her hips towards the twins as they pressed against her thighs. Lyra body bowed away from the tree, her chest rose and fell as George stroked her arm with featherlight touches.

“I told him that I need more than _one_ man to satisfy me.” Lyra’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she watched as their mouths pulled into boastful smirks.

“God I love you.” Fred was the first to lean forward, his body pressed her harder against the tree. The bark was uncomfortable against her bare back and she moaned when he began kneading her breast through her dress. “I’ve been _itching_ to tear this off of you.” Lyra giggled as he fisted the fabric of her skirt on her hip and kissed her roughly.

“Do you want to fuck me Fred?” He let out a gasp of a moan when she palmed his erection and began slowly stroking him through his trousers.

“Yes.” His voice quivered and he pressed his face into her neck, his breath hitching when she added pressure.

“And you?” Lyra raised her hand to George’s face and stroked his cheek as he inched his face closer to hers, her thumb slip over his lips. She pulled his bottom lip down a bit as she smirked. “Do you want to fuck me too George?”

“Always.” his voice was husky and Lyra laughed, George nipped at the pad of her thumb.

“Here?”

“Wherever you want. Whenever you want.” Growled Fred against her throat. Lyra jerked her head up, pulled her lips away from George before he could kiss them, he groaned an dipped his head to kiss her shoulder and along her clavicle. “Darling, I’ll fuck you in front of all the guest if you asked me to.” More people spilled from the tent and meandered closer, couples caught up in the magical union, Lyra caught sight of her brother as he tripped and rolled down the hill with Luna.

“Come on then,” Lyra tugged both of them towards her by their belt, “I want you to fuck me in the bedroom you grew up in.” Fred and George chuckled deeply and followed her to the house, as soon as she opened the door George pushed her roughly against the fireplace.

“Seeing you dressed like this is—” Lyra cut him off with a kiss, her arms wrapped around George’s neck and she pulled the hair at the nape of his neck. “Fuck. I can’t wait to marry you.” George dipped and gathered the skirt of her dress as he lifted her from the floor and wrapped her legs around his waist. “I love you so fucking much.” Lyra glanced at Fred who unbuttoned the jacket of his dress robes and flung it towards the table. Lyra held George’s shoulders as he walked her through the house and began to climb the stairs. She licked a stripe up his throat and George let out a throaty moan when she nipped at his ear. Fred watched her intently and undid his tie slowly as he followed behind them; an Eldredge knot.

George kicked his bedroom door open and pressed her firmly to the edge of the bed as he kissed her. “How do I get this—” he groaned as he tugged at her dress.

“Magic.” Lyra chuckled and Fred raised his wand, in a second Lyra was left lying on the edge of the bed dressed only in white and gold lace panties and her heels. The butterfly on her heel of her gold shoe fluttered and Lyra raised her arm above her head. She gripped the sheets and tried to hoist herself higher on the bed.

“Fuck.” The twin’s groaned in unison as they stared at the thin fabric of her knickers. Lyra giggled and George kissed her stomach, trailing kisses over her body, until he nipped between her beasts. His head turned he kissed a line over her soft flesh until he pressed the tip of his tongue against her hard nipple teasingly. He slid his hand up the curve of her body and groped at her other breast, rolling his thumb over her nipple when he finally pulled the other into his mouth and sucked.

“Oh my—” Lyra dug the toe of her gold pump into the bed and squirmed against his touch, trying to get fully onto the bed. George slid away from her body, kissing and licking a trail across her chest, and knelt at her side as he nipped at her sensitive skin. One of her hands raked through his hair as the other snaked it’s way between her legs. Lyra’s back arched as she touched herself, she stared at Fred as he watched her, he licked his lips and Lyra moaned loudly as she rubbed circles on her clit through her shimmering lace panties. He gave a wicked smirk with hooded, hungry, eyes and then flicked his wand.

Her hands her snapped above her head and his tie shot from his collar. The fabric secured her wrists together, and bound them to the post of headboard with a bow, Lyra giggled and gave a light tug. “God you’re beautiful.” Fred ran his hand up her leg that dangled off the side of the bed; her toes barely graced the wood floor. He squeezed her thigh as he dropped to his knees. “You’re fucking soaked Darling.” He ran his thumb over her as he sucked marks onto her inner thigh. “Positively dripping in your white lace.” Lyra moaned into George’s kiss and rolled her hips towards Fred’s mouth. She pointed her toes and pressed the ball of her foot into the bed again, not wanting to puncture a hole in the sheets with the heel of her shoe.

“Open your mouth sweetheart.” George whispered against her lips and then stood. He undid his trousers slowly, she watched his skilled hands undo his belt and pop the button open while he watched his brother rub small circles over her lace. Lyra's tongue darted out to wet her lips, and inclined her chin as he pulled the zipper down. He stilled and Lyra whined when Fred flattened his tongue against her. George stared past the bed with his trousers open and lowered slightly. He reached into his pocket for his wand, flicked it through the air quickly and the blinds shut immediately. He threw his wand to the floor, it clattered and rolled away. The room was darker now, with the lack of moonlight, but Lyra’s eyes adjusted quickly and she stared up at George with her mouth open, waiting.

He bent towards her as he pulled the buttons free from his vest and shucked it off. He sucked on her tongue and Lyra moaned loudly and then let out a small squeak when Fred pinched her nipples. George straightened and loosened his tie with a jerk, pushed his trousers and boxers down just enough to free himself and he stared at her open mouth. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He stroked Lyra’s tongue with his thumb in time with his hand that moved up and down his length. “Such a good girl.” Lyra whined when Fred kissed her through the lace of her underwear, sucking lightly and pressing her throbbing clit between his lips. “Such sweet sounds, Lyra.” George straightened, his shirt hung open with his tie loose in its collar, he stroked his length as he stepped towards her. Lyra strained against the tie that bound her to the bed as she leant forward to wrap her mouth around him. George brushed the few curls that framed her face, tucked them behind her ear and rocked into her mouth slowly with a long, throaty, moan.

Fred rubbed slow strokes over the lace, pressed them between her folds as his warm breath fanned over her clit. “You like sucking him off?” He pressed his finger against her entrance, teasing her through her panties. “You’re leaking all over my fingers Darling.” Fred sucked loudly on his fingers, moaning in appreciation, he kissed her clit, Lyra whined and jerked her hips closer to his mouth. “So fucking _needy_.” He chuckled and tugged the lace down her legs, over her shimmering gold heels, and began to use his thumb to stroke between her folds at an agonizingly slow pace. Fred pressed slightly as he stroked and separated her, “Wow.” He moved his mouth closer and Lyra moaned around George as he pushed deeper into her throat. “Such a pretty little cunt.” Fred’s finger barely dipped inside of her, and she whine when he lefter her empty and clenching over nothing. Her insides coiled when Fred popped his finger out of his mouth with a moan, “Fucking delicious.”

“Tongue our.” Demanded George as he pulled from her mouth, he rocked forward and she moved her tongue up and down the length of his shaft as he slowly thrust his hips. “Such a good girl.”

“Oh my God!” Lyra’s head fell back, away from George, when Fred ran his tongue up her, he inched forward and sucked on her clit as she panted and squirmed.

“Open.” George held Lyra’s hair and tapped his tip against her mouth, Lyra hummed as Fred sucked and lapped at her, “Open your fucking mouth Lyra.” She obeyed and George grinned down at her. “Suck.” He lead his tip into her mouth and then popped it out as he moaned. “Such a good girl Lyra, again.” Lyra hallowed her cheeks every time George thrust into her mouth, “God I love you.” He pushed further into her mouth, and then down her throat, she moaned against him as Fred slid a finger inside of her and then affected another.

“You’re making such a fucking mess.” She could hear how wet she was, the lewid sounds filled the room as Fred ran his tongue over her, sucking and lapping as he flexed his fingers inside of her. “You like when I fuck you like this?”

Lyra coughed and gagged around George as he held her head sill on him. She gasped when he finally pulled from her mouth, “Answer him Lyra.”

She licked the spit from her lips, “Yes.” She panted out and tried to catch her breath, “Don’t stop. Please.” Fred added another finger and thrust them into her faster. “Fred!” Lyra whined and pulled at the her binds, “Please, right here.”

“Cum for me Darling, cum in my fucking mouth.” He sucked her clit as he flexed his fingers faster, “That a girl Lyra. You going to squirt for me again?”

“That was one ti—” She was cut off by George pushing himself into her mouth and then deeper into her throat. His thrusts matched pace with the way Fred moved his fingers and she choked when George held her head against him.

“You’re so fucking pretty with your mouth wrapped around my cock.” George moaned and stroked slower, shallower, he popped in and out of her mouth as she sucked. “Such a good fucking girl.” George licked his lips and tossed his head back, “You know just how I like it.”

“Right there Darling? Just like this?” Fred chuckled, “I can feel you clenching, love.” He flicked his tongue over her and pulled her clit into his mouth, “Cum for me Lyra. Just relax Darling— be a good girl for me and cum on my face.” Lyra wanted to scream as her orgasm ripped through her, but the only sound she could manage with George in her mouth was a strangled sort of whine. George moaned as he pushed deeper into her mouth; her eyes watered. Fred gulped down her orgasm, sucking and lapping away the arousal that seeped out of her, “So fucking hot.” His fingers moved slower as she relaxed around him, her body twitched and she panted when George finally pulled from her. “It’s so fucking _sexy_ when you cum in my mouth like that Darling.”

“T—too much.” Lyra body twitched and shook as Fred got to his feet, he pulled his fingers slowly from between her thighs and sank them into her open mouth.

“Taste how sweet you are.” Fred replaced his brother at her side with a lustful smirk, “Clean up your fucking mess, Darling.” He moaned as she swirled her tongue over and between his fingers, “Such a good girl. You like the way you taste?” Lyra nodded as she sucked.

George pulled her legs up onto the bed and pushed her knees towards her chest. He rocked against her and chuckled lowly, sliding his length between her folds, “You’re still so fucking wet.” He tapped his head against her clit and she twitched and her jaw clenched around Fred’s fingers.

“Watch your teeth Darling. Or I’ll bite you back.” He slid his fingers slowly from her mouth, collected the drool from her chin and used it to stroke himself.

“Fu—uck.” George sighed as he sank into her, “Fuck you’re so soft. So. Fucking. Wet.” He moaned through clenched teeth.

“Open your mouth Darling.” Fred leant forward and spit into Lyra's waiting, “Such a good girl. You listen so well.” He moaned and pulled her hair to lead her towards him.

George slid fully into her and she whined as he stretched her with his size, “Don’t squeeze, love.” He was already breathless and gave a short laugh as she relaxed around him. “Just like that Lyra.” He rolled his hips into her and she whined around Fred as he fucked her mouth roughly. “Just like that... such a good girl.”

“Faster.” She panted put when Fred pulled from her mouth. He stroked himself and then tapped her lips with his head, silently telling her to open for him. “Please, George, faster.” Lyra gagged as Fred pulled her around him and then thrust a further into her mouth, she moaned as George adjusted his pace to match his brother’s. He gripped the back of her thighs and pounded into her as she whined around Fred.

Lyra pulled at the tie and pulled her head away from Fred as another orgasm ravished her body, “Oh my god!” Lyra yelled, bit her lip and rolled her hips against George to drive him deeper into her. “Righ—” She whined around Fred as he jerked her mouth back around him— thrusted himself faster and deeper into her throat.

“Fuck. Lyra... I’m—” George thrust into almost painfully deep and then stroked out slower, twitched as he sunk back inside of her body to fill her.

“My turn.” Fred smiled wickedly down at Lyra as George pulled from her and stepped aside.

“Fred, I can’t—” Lyra moaned as he kissed her, “Please, not tonight.” Fred chuckled as he pressed against her ass. “Please.” Her head fell against the bed as she pulled at the tie.

“Okay.” He leant forward and kissed her cheeks, peppering her flushed face with sloppy kisses. “Okay Darling. Not tonight.” Lyra gasped when he sank into her. “Such a tight little cunt.” Lyra blushed and tried to hide her face against her arm. “No Lyra, none of that. Look at me Darling.” Fred reached above her as he rocked his hips slowly against her. He looped her bound arms around his head and smiled into their kiss when her nails dug between his shoulder blades. “I love you.” He rolled them over so she straddled him and then sat up so their bare chest were pressed against each other as he held her to him. “Ride me, Darling.” Lyra’s legs shook as she tried to lift her body off of him, “Such a good girl.” Fred pulled her hair and her body bowed backwards as Fred craned her so he could kiss her throat. Lyra heard the door close and she stopped moving and tried to look over her shoulder at it, “Focus on me, Darling.” Fred moved his mouth lower and sucked on the hollow of her throat, his grip tightened in her hair to force her attention back to him. Her back ached and he pulled her head lower, Lyra cried out when he scraped his teeth down her chest. Fred smirked against her skin, kissed the top of her breast and then pulled her nipple between his teeth.

“Fred.” Lyra moaned, breathless, as she rolled her hips back and forth in his lap. Her fingers scraped against his name and Fred moaned and released her nipple with a pop.

“You want me to cum inside you Lyra?” He let go of her hair and dropped is hands to her waist to support her as he thrust up into her. Lyra’s body snapped upright and she pressed her forehead against his, “Do you want me to fill Darling?” Fred whispered the question against the side of her neck, between kisses while his hands slid over her ass and gripped her thighs tightly. “Tell me Darling. Tell me you want to feel my cock twitch in inside of you while I spill my seed into you.”

“Yes.” Lyra’s voice was staggered as he pounded up into her. “Please, Fred, I want it. I want you.” She collapsed against his chest and he leant back into the bed and rolled her onto her back again, Fred brought her leg up around his hip and pulled her arms back over his head.

“Hold the headboard.” He rolled his hips forward as he moved to his knees and pulled her leg up against his chest, Fred held her shin and kissed the inside of her ankle. “You’re such a good girl, Lyra.”

“Right there. P-please, i—it’s too much Fred. Please cum, please I can’t—”

“You can love. Once more for me Darling and then I’ll fill you.” Lyra’s head dug back against the pillows and Fred watched as he pulled from her. “Say my name.”

“Fred.” She moaned, a long drawn out moan as he sunk back into her.

“Watch me fuck you Darling, watch me fucking fill you.” Lyra moaned his name over and over as her legs shook. She let go of the headboard and tried to push him away, to stop his hips as he pounded into her.

“I can’t—”

“You can Darling. Please. Please let me see you cum again.” Lyra’s moaned as Fred pushed her arms above her head again held them there with one hand secured around both wrists.

He pressed his chest against hers and drove himself deeper, “I’m—” Fred hooked her leg around his hip and moaned against her mouth.

“You feel so fucking good Darling.”

“Fuck. Fred!” Her body arched and Fred moaned loudly.

“Look at me Lyra.” Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at him, “That’s my girl,” his tongue darted out to wet his lips and he squeezed her bound wrists. “I’m so fucking close Darling.” Fred panted and pressed his forehead against hers, “Fuck—I love you.” He licked his lips and rolled his hips again, harder, faster. She screamed his name as he drove her over the edge, he bit into her neck and groaned loudly as he found his own release while she pulsed around him.

“Come here.” Fred demanded as he tore away from her and stood. He gripped Lyra’s elbow and helped her off the bed, he pushed her shoulder down and she knelt before him. “Suck our cum off of me.” He brushed the hair from her face as she licked up his shaft. Lyra held him steady with the tips of her fingers and Fed moaned when she circled her tongue over his head. “How do we taste Darling?” Lyra hummed as he pushed further into her mouth. “You like it when George and I cum inside of you?” Lyra nodded and Fred moaned again, “You like sucking our mixed fucking cum off of my cock?” He popped himself out of her mouth and she licked her lips.

“Yes.” Fred smiled and helped Lyra to her feet and untied her hands, she wiped the corner of her mouth and then sucked the pad of her thumb.

“God, you’re absolutely perfect.” Fred brushed her hair being her ears with the lightest of touches. “I love you so fucking much Lyra.”

“And I love you.” Her locket clicked open and Fred’s smile widened.

## ❧

“You two sure took your time.” George offed Lyra and Fred a glass of champagne and then gave Lyra a quick kiss.

“I like to be... _thorough._ ” Lyra rolled her head from side to side as Fred began to massaged the back of her neck.

“Would you like to dance?” Lyra nodded, downed her drink before giving the empty glass to Fred and accepted George’s extended hand.

“I’d love to.” She smiled widely as George twirled her into the center of the room, Lyra watched the moths that fluttered around the floating golden lanterns and leant her head on George’s chest while they swayed to the gentle music. The two of them danced for three songs, swaying slowly even as the songs became more and more lively. She was still buzzed off of the glasses of champagne and positively drunk off of the way the twin’s made her feel. Lyra savored the way George held her waist and hummed when his hands roamed her bare back. George wrapped himself around her, held her tightly to him while she played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“May I cut in?” Smiled Fred, “She _is_ my fiancée as well.” George surrendered Lyra to his brother and she watched as he stalked off towards a waiter with a tray of glistening glasses. “I think he’s still here.”

“Who? George? He’s getting a drink,” Fred held her hand gently and splayed his other across her bare back.

“No.” He chuckled, “No Darling,” Fred smiled down at her, “the officiant. We can still get married. Right now. You, me, and George could sneak off for a bit longer. No one noticed before, I doubt they will now.”

“I want a proper wedding Freddie.” He smiled and nodded as she stared up at him.

“And we’ll have one once this is all over. Until then... I just want to be able to brag to everyone and anyone that _you_ are my beautiful bride.” Lyra flushed. “What do you say? I promise you that we will still have a proper ceremony. We can even invite all your Muggle friends, all of your family— your Aunts and Uncles... I’ll even marry you in the bloody States.” He stared down at her as she studied his face, “Go back to New York if that’s what you want.” Lyra nodded slowly as he cupped her face in his large hand and brushed the single tear that slid from the corer of her eye. “I just want you to be my wife already.”

“Okay.” She smiled and blinked back more tears. “Okay.” Lyra nodded.

“Okay?” Fed smiled widely and Lyra nodded again. “Okay!” He lifted her and spun in a circle, laughing triumphantly. “Alright, I—I’ll get George and that little man.” He held her face and kissed her as he laughed, “You—you stay here until I find them. Wait, we need a witness—” His smile faltered as he looked through the crowd.

“I’ll get my brother.” Lyra had never seen Fred look happier as he rushed off and slapped George’s back so hard that he spilled his drink. Lyra laughed happily when they looked back at her with wide smiles before they broke into a sprint, nearly taking out a few guests, as they looked for the short wizard.

Lyra spotted Hermione almost limping towards a table occupied by “Cousin Barny” and practically skipped towards them. “—simply can’t dance anymore,” Hermione panted, slipped off one of her shoes and rubbed the sole of her foot. “Ron’s gone looking to find more Butterbeers. It’s a bit odd, I’ve just seen Viktor storming away from Luna’s father, it looked like they’d been arguing—” She dropped her voice, staring at him. “Harry, are you okay?”

“Have you seen Ban?” Lyra bounced on the soles of her feet, “I, uh I need him.” Hermione’s blinked up at her, “Like, right now. I need him right now.”

“He went with Ron to find Butterbeers.” Lyra followed Hermione’s nod and thanked her loudly as she made her way around the crowd.

She was nearing them, Lyra could hear Ban laughing as he grabbed a Butterbeer, she opened her mouth to call for him, lifted her arm to be on her brother towards her as her chest fluttered. But her voice faltered, died in her throat as her smiled was ripped from her face. In that moment, her question no longer seemed to matter, it was gone from her mind in a matter of seconds.

Lyra froze as something large and silver fell through the canopy over the dance floor. Graceful and gleaming, the lynx landed gently in the middle of the astonished dancers. She stumbled closer to her brother and cursed when she knocked into a table; heads turned, those nearest to it froze absurdly in mid-dance. Then, the Patronus’s mouth opened wide and it spoke in the loud, deep, slow voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

_“The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”_


	7. Chapter 7- The Marble Cage

The world was a blur and everything was slow, the seconds stretched into hours as she tried to blink the blur from her eyes and fog from her brain. Lyra laughed harshly, a jarring sound that rang in her own ears; she looked from the lynx to her brother, her chest clenched in disbelief. Ban’s wand was drawn and he was following Ron around the mass of people, plowing through them and pushing to wither side of him as he continued forward—away from her. Many of the guests were only just realizing that something strange had happened; heads were still turning toward the silver cat as it vanished and Lyra blinked away the faint glow as it faded away, silence spread outward in cold ripples from the place where the Patronus had landed.

Then somebody screamed.

Lyra was pushed back by the panicking crowd, stumbled against a table and gasped when it bit in to her hip. Her hands slip against the tablecloth as she propelled herself around the table to where Ban was, or where he had been before he and Ron began to move. Lyra wanted someone, anyone, needed a familiar face, “Fred?” Sound barely pushed from her lungs, was hardly even a sound in the commotion. Guests were sprinting in all directions; many were Disapparating; the protective enchantments around the Burrow had broken. “George?” She shouted a little louder, “Ban!” Lyra screamed.

“Ron!” Lyra heard Hermione shout through the thinning crowd. “Ron, where are you?” She couldn’t breathe; her dress was suddenly too tight, too heavy to move in as she stumbled forward. Lyra pushed her way through the crowd, forced herself across the golden floor and barreled towards the entrance, towards the Burrow. Towards the only home she had left.

Lyra pushed her way across the dance floor, her hands slapped across unfamiliar guests and Lyra shouted in protest when she was thrown into the long table of drinks. The tower of wine glasses wobbled and then topped to the floor. She held her chest and watched in frozen terror as cloaked and masked figures appeared within the crowd; then she saw Remus and Tonks, their wands raised, and heard both of them shout, “Protego!”, a cry that was echoed on all sides—

“Fred!” Lyra’s voice cracked as she was knocked around by terrified guests, glass crunched under her heels, her footing slipped through the he spilled wine and champagne. “George!” Lyra screamed for the twins as a streak of light whizzed over the panicking crowds’ heads; whether a protective charm or something more sinister she did not know, could barely register the color of the spell. Lyra raised her head just in time to see Thuban and Ron join hands with Hermione and Harry. Lyra blinked, Hermione had turned on the spot and the four of them vanished. A sob tore from her throat as she was pushed forward by someone running in terror. “Fred!” Lyra screamed and bend to fuss with the the skirt of her dress, just enough so she was able to pull her wand from where it was latched to her calf. “George!” Lyra screamed when the table behind her was blown back. She stood and brought her wand up to cast a protection spell just in time to block a crimson jet of light from hitting her in the chest.

“There you are dearie.” The woman’s voice knocked the breath form her lungs and Lyra let out a relived, yet panicked laugh when she caught sight of Fred and George as they burst back into the tent. She stared ahead of her then, at the porcelain mask and backed around the table.

“Fred!” Lyra screamed, “Protego!” She shouted, and in a blink the woman was gone, leaving behind nothing but viscous black smoke, “George!” Their head’s snapped towards her and they broke into a panicked sprint, “Fred!” Lyra took off towards them, she was terrified for them, for herself, for Ban— wherever he was. Lyra blocked another spell, it staggered her to the left slightly and the adrenaline didn’t even let her register that at some point her head had been hit, that her blood was running down her temple and tripped onto the top of her breasts.

Fred and George wands raised in unison.

“Lyra!” Fred and George screamed for her, she was so close, less than ten feet, less than eight. It she could just get to them, they could apparat, they could leave, they’d be safe. Less than six feet.

Barely three feet between them, their fingertips just out of reach, Lyra laughed and the twin’s screamed.

“Got you.” The woman whispered sweetly into Lyra’s ear. She was behind her half a heartbeat, thin arms wrapped around Lyra’s body and forced her sideways. Lyra screamed and thrashed, her arms were held at her side and they stumbled together, and the woman spun them as they fell. Sight and sound were extinguished as darkness pressed in upon her; all Lyra could feel was the woman’s nails digging into her arms as she was squeezed through space and time; forced away from the Burrow, away from the descending Death Eaters.

Away from Fred and George.

  
  


## ❧

Lyra fell forwards onto her hands and knees as the woman tossed her to the side to regain her own balance. She heaved onto the polished floor, her arms shook and her head puled and spun as she emptied the contents of her stomach. “Oh,” The Witch sucked her teeth and tutted, “poor baby.” The woman cackled and Lyra wrapped her hand around her wand that had slapped against the hard floor.

“None of that, love!” The woman laughed and kicked her wand from her hand.

Lyra panted, “What do you want from me?” The woman ignored her and Lyra heaved again and couldn’t even force herself to look up when she heard a pair of footsteps pounding against the polished floor.

“What are you doing?” The man hissed, “Who is this?” His voice echoed through the roll, Lyra wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and stared at the small drops of blood that were falling into her mess.

“You should go get Draco.” Sang the woman, and Lyra’s stomach lurched again. “I’ve brought him his reward.” Lyra took a breath, lifted her hand and gripped her wand tightly as she pulled herself to her feet. She flicked her wrist and sent one of the men roughly against the wall. His head lulled to the side as he sank to the floor, “No you don’t dear!” The masked woman laughed as Lyra was knocked backwards, her wand clattering loudly against the polished stone, and she was bound roughly by cords that coiled around her. “Wouldn’t want to be rude to your hosts now.” She was on her back and squirmed against the tightening bindings.

Lyra stared at the ceiling as hurried steps echoed through the large marble room. “Lyra?” Lyra closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, “Lyra!” He fell to her side and her stomach knotted; she could smell him. His cologne, his toothpaste, the faint scent if tea and old books. “I can’t believe it...” Neither could she, Lyra was sinking into herself as he stroked her face and smoothed her hair, he tucked her loose curls behind her ear gently, “You’re really here.” He laughed nervously and Lyra struggled against her bindings and whimpered when they began to bite into her skin. “Shh, you’re safe now.” He wiped her face as she cried, “It’s okay Lyra, you’re safe. I’m here.”

She was levitated slowly down a flight of stairs as she thrashed against her bindings and set down in a windowless room. Draco fell to his knees beside her and stoked her hair tenderly and when the door latched, her bindings disappeared, “What do you want from me? Why am I here?” Her voice shuttered as her breath rattled in her chest.

“See,” Draco smiled down at her, “I told them you wouldn’t be trouble.” He sighed happily and looked around the room as he got to his feet. “I tried to tell Father that keeping you here would just agitate you.” He laughed and then frowned down at her as she laid on the cold stone floor, “I knew you would no doubt grow resistant if we kept you in a cell. But he insisted.”

“What do you want from me Malfoy?” He sighed, less happily, and then moved around the room.

“I’ll have things sent here for you, it’s much too stark for you to find it comfortable. You’ll need a proper bed.” He saw her eyes flicker and he halted his movements, “No, no, you’re not meant to stay here forever.” He nodded down at her, “It’s only until my Father deems you safe enough. I’m not sure why he doesn’t trust me.” Draco was at her side again and held her chin to force her to face him, “I know you. I know you wouldn’t do anything rash, ”He licked his lips slowly and a smile crept across his face, “because you love me.” Lyra’s stomach twisted.

“I don’t.”

“Of course you do.” Draco laughed and ran his fingers lightly over her hairline, trailed over the still bleeding slit as if he couldn’t even see it, and whispered, “You told me.”

“After you gave me a love potion. You—You drugged me. How could I love you after all you’ve done to me?” His face twisted and Lyra hissed when he struck her. Her vision blurred and was riddled with spots; she whimpered.

“Shh, shh. I’m sorry,” Draco stroked her cheek, it was most likely going to bruise, “You just— sometimes you make me loose my composure Lyra.” He brought his face closer to hers, as if he were going to kiss her and Lyra forced her head forward and screamed when the white hot pain blinded her. Lyra spat in his face and Draco sighed as he held his nose, “Perhaps Father was right.”

## ❧

“Where are we?” said Ron’s voice.

Thuban blinked and frowned at the Muggles who rushed past them. “Tottenham Court Road,” panted Hermione. “Walk, just walk, we need to find somewhere for you to change.”

They did as she asked, half walked, half ran up the wide dark street thronged with late-night revelers and lined with closed shops. A double-decker bus rumbled by and a group of merry pub-goers ogled them as they passed; Harry and Ron were still wearing dress robes, Ban straightened his tailored jacket.

“Hermione, we haven’t got anything to change into,” Ron told her, as a young woman burst into raucous giggles at the sight of him.

“Why didn’t I make sure I had the Invisibility Cloak with me?” said Harry. “All last year I kept it on me and—”

“It’s okay, I’ve got the Cloak, I’ve got clothes for all of you,” said Hermione. “Just try and act naturally until— this will do.”

She led them down a side street, then into the shelter of a shadowy alleyway. “When you say you’ve got the Cloak, and clothes...” said Harry, frowning at Hermione, who was carrying nothing except her small beaded handbag, in which she was now rummaging.

“Yes, they’re here,” said Hermione, and to the groups utter astonishment, she pulled out a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, some maroon socks, and finally the silvery Invisibility Cloak.

“How the ruddy hell—?” Ron breathed, astonished.

“Undetectable Extension Charm,” said Hermione. “Tricky, but I think I’ve done it okay; anyway, I managed to fit everything we need in here.” She gave the fragile-looking bag a little shake and it echoed like a cargo hold as a number of heavy objects rolled around inside it. “Oh, damn, that’ll be the books,” she said, peering into it, “and I had them all stacked by subject... Oh well... Harry, you’d better take the Invisibility Cloak. Ron, hurry up and change... Ban, here.” She handed him jeans and a T-shirt.

“When did you do all this?” Harry asked as Ron and Ban stripped quickly.

“I told you at the Burrow, I’ve had the essentials packed for days, you know, in case we needed to make a quick getaway. I packed your rucksack this morning, Harry, after you changed, and put it in here... I just had a feeling...”

“You’re amazing, you are,” said Ron, handing her his bundled-up robes.

“Thank you,” said Hermione, managing a small smile as she pushed the robes into the bag. “Please, Harry, get that Cloak on!”

Harry threw the Invisibility Cloak around his shoulders and pulled it up over his head, vanishing from sight.

“The others— everyone at the wedding—”

“We were supposed to bring Lyra.” Ban frowned.

“We can’t worry about that now,” whispered Hermione. “It’s Harry they’re after, and we’ll just put everyone in even more danger by going back.”

“She’s right,” said Ron, who seemed to know that Harry was about to argue, even if he could not see his face. Ban rolled his eyes at everyone’s nervous thoughts. “Most of the Order was there, they’ll look after everyone.” Ron gave Ban an apathetic look as he shook his head, “Fred and George will take care of her mate. No doubt about it.”

“Yeah.” Said Harry’s voice.

“Come on, I think we ought to keep moving,” said Hermione.

They strode back up the side street and onto the main road again, where a group of men on the opposite side was singing and weaving across the pavement. “I can’t just leave her Hermione! That— she’s my sister! You said—”

“I know what I said. Lyra was looking for you when all hell broke loose Ban... H-how was I supposed to know she didn’t find you?” She didn’t even turn to look at him as she lead them down the street.

“Just as a matter of interest, why Tottenham Court Road?” Ron asked Hermione and Ban ground his teeth.

“I’ve no idea, it just popped into my head, but I’m sure we’re safer out in the Muggle world, it’s not where they’ll expect us to be.”

“True,” said Ron, looking around, “but don’t you feel a bit— exposed?”

“Where else is there?” asked Hermione, cringing as the men on the other side of the road started wolf-whistling at her. “We can hardly book rooms at the Leaky Cauldron, can we? And Grimmauld Place is out if Snape can get in there... I suppose we could try my parents’ house, though I think there’s a chance they might check there... Oh, I wish they’d shut up!”

“All right, darling?” the drunkest of the men on the other pavement was yelling. “Fancy a drink? Ditch ginger and come and have a pint!” Ban sneered at them and they flinched back and pressed the heel of their hand against their temples.

“Let’s sit down somewhere,” Hermione said hastily as Ron opened his mouth to shout back across the road. “Look, this will do, in here!” Ron patted Ban on his shoulder as Hermione pushed a door open with a slight chime overhead. It was a small and shabby all-night café.

A light layer of grease lay on all the Formica-topped tables, Ban rolled his eyes and stepped inside, at least it was empty. Ron sat next to Harry, opposite Hermione who slid into the booth beside Thuban, she had her back to the entrance and did not like it: She glanced over her shoulder so frequently she appeared to have a twitch. Ban shifted and leant his back against the wall, angling himself against the corner of the booth, he swung his arm over the back of it and brushed against Hermione’s hair as he kept the door in his sight. He turned his stare towards the counter when Hermione rolled her shoulder and bushed against his hand. Ban scowled and dipped his hand over the edge of the booth into the one behind them, he heard the empty seat shift and registered that he was staring directly at Harry. He tore his gaze from his invisible friend with an muttered apology as he chewed nervously at the tip of his thumb.

After a minute or two, Ron said, “You know, we’re not far from the Leaky Cauldron here, it’s only in Charing Cross—”

“Ron, we can’t!” said Hermione at once.

“Not to stay there, but to find out what’s going on!”

“We know what’s going on! Voldemort’s taken over the Ministry, what else do we need to know?”

“Okay, okay, it was just an idea!”

“I, for one, would like to know what happened to my sister. Go get her and bring Lyra with us like we were meant to, or at least I’d know for certain she’s safe with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb.” Ban shifted and glanced at the door again when a group of people laughed and walked too close to the door for his liking, “I can’t feel her anymore Hermione.” He leant towards her and lowered his voice, “This has _never_ happened before. Not even when she went off with that actor’s son to that weird ass Triangle House in Tarzana.” He s higher, “I don’t know where she is and I can’t seem to get a focus on her. Every time I try it— there’s just nothing but pressure.”

“We’re not going back Ban. We can’t risk it.” Stated Hermione, they relapsed into a prickly silence. The gum-chewing waitress shuffled over and Hermione ordered two cappuccinos.

“Doppio for me.” The waitress squinted her eyes, Ban sighed and pushed an aggravated hand through his hair, “Café Mocha?” He groaned, “Double shot of espresso, add milk and chocolate. Please.” The waitress wrote it down with a roll of her eyes and Ban ignored the way Hermione looked at him. A pair of burly workmen entered the café and squeezed into a booth. Hermione dropped her voice to a whisper.

“I say we find a quiet place to Disapparate and head for the countryside. Once we’re there, we could send a message to the Order.”

“We could just go to my family’s townhouse. Regroup there, figure things out without being so exposed.” Ban rolled his shoulders and frowned at how silent the room was, he could hear the waitress as she stared at the back of Ron’s head.

“No.” Said Hermione, “If anyone knows you’re with us then they’d go there first. Your Uncles’ are Muggle and I doubt there are any protective enchantments on your home.” Ban pinched the bridged of his nose and thanked the waitress when she brought their order.

“Can you do that talking Patronus thing, then?” asked Ron.

“I’ve been practicing with Ban and Ginny, and I think I can manage,” said Hermione, glancing at Ban who stared angrily at the two men.

“You can do that?” Ron blinked at him.

“I’m not a fucking child.” Said Ban dryly as took a short drink. The workmen shifted slowly and he glanced at Ron, “Lyra’s better at it, sometimes mine just shows up without it’s voice.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter who does it.” Hermione wrapped her hands around the warm mug, “As long as it doesn’t get the others into trouble, though they might’ve been arrested already.”

“God, that’s revolting,” Ron added after one sip of the foamy, grayish coffee. The waitress had heard; she shot Ron a nasty look as she shuffled off to take the new customers’ orders. Ban smirked when she call Ron a wanker in her mind. The larger of the two workmen, who was blond and quite huge, waved the girl away and Ban’s jaw ticked. She stared, affronted, Ban cocked his head a bit and finished his drink, eager and grateful for the caffeine. “Let’s get going then, I don’t want to drink this muck,” said Ron. “Hermione, have you got Muggle money to pay for this?”

“Yes, I took out all my Building Society savings before I came to the Burrow. I’ll bet all the change is at the bottom,” sighed Hermione, reaching for her beaded bag.

“I can cover it. Just get my wallet, has all my cash and my cards.” Ban leant over Hermione as she opened her bag. “You have Lyra’s too?” He scowled.

“She _was_ supposed to be here, remember?” Hermione scoffed and retrieved Ban’s wallet.

The two workmen made identical movements, but their Occlusion cracked just beforehand and Ban barred his teeth as he snarled and sat straighter. He held his wand steadily from where he sat and aimed it at their chests. All three of them drew their wands and Ron, a few seconds late in realizing what was going on, lunged across the table, pushing Hermione sideways onto Ban’s lap and forced him backwards into the booth. Ban, thanks to Ron’s interference, knocked his head roughly into the tiled wall. The force of the Death Eaters’ spells shattered the tiles where Ron’s head had just been, Harry, still invisible, yelled, “Stupefy!”

The great blond Death Eater was hit in the face by a jet of red light: He slumped sideways, unconscious. His companion, unable to see who had cast the spell, fired another at Ron, who had spilled off of Hermione and was aiming his wand at the man. Shining black ropes flew from the Death Eater’s wand-tip and bound Ron head to foot— the waitress screamed and ran for the door— Ban struggled with Hermione in his lap and Harry sent another Stunning Spell at the Death Eater with the twisted face who had tied up Ron. The spell missed, rebounded on the window, and hit the waitress, who collapsed in front of the door.

“Expulso!” bellowed the Death Eater, and the table exploded as Ban shook the dizziness from his mind and aimed a spell at the man just as Harry’s invisibility cloak slipped off of him, with a grunt the man barely deflected Ban’s spell and the tiles cracked and fell from the wall after the large picture exploded and scattered on the floor. Hermione slipped over Ban’s thighs and sank under the table as Ban shot another spell at the man.

“Petrificus Totalus!” screamed Hermione from below, and the Death Eater fell forward like a statue landing with a crunching thud on the mess of broken china, table, and coffee. Hermione crawled out slowly, shaking bits of glass out of her hair and trembled as she stood.

“D-diffindo,” she said, pointing her wand at Ron, who roared in pain as she slashed open the knee of his jeans, leaving a deep cut. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Ron, my hand’s shaking! Diffindo!”

The severed ropes fell away. Ron got to his feet, shaking his arms to regain feeling in them. Harry picked up his wand and climbed over all the debris to where the large blond Death Eater was sprawled across the bench.

“I should’ve recognized him, he was there the night Dumbledore died,” he said. Harry turned over the darker Death Eater with his foot; the man’s eyes moved rapidly between Harry, Ban, Ron, and Hermione.

“That’s Dolohov,” said Ron. “I recognize him from the old wanted posters. I think the big one’s Thorfinn Rowle.”

“Never mind what they’re called!” said Hermione a little hysterically. “How did they find us? What are we going to do?”

“If they’re _here_ then—” Ban’s voice cracked and he looked towards the door and then back at Hermione who shook her head profusely.

“Lock the door,” Harry told Hermione, “and Ron, turn out the lights.”

Ban stared down at the paralyzed Dolohov, his wand pointed at the stiff man’s chest, the lock clicked and Ron used the Deluminator to plunge the café into darkness.

“What are we going to do with them?” Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, “Kill them? They’d kill us. They had a good go just now.”

Hermione shuddered and took a step backward. Harry shook his head and Ban choked down the mixture of emotions that swirled through the room. “We just need to wipe their memories,” said Harry. “It’s better like that, it’ll throw them off the scent. If we killed them it’d be obvious we were here.”

“You’re the boss,” said Ron, sounding profoundly relieved. “But I’ve never done a Memory Charm.”

“Nor have I,” said Hermione, “but I know the theory.”

“Lyra has, she’s great with memory charms.”

“Well she’s not here, Thuban!” Hermione glared up at him.

“And who’s fault is that? You didn’t even wait, I grabbed your hand you fucking brought us here!”

“Did you think we’d just wait around while the wedding got raided? They’re after Harry, we needed to leave!”

“Harry—” Ban touched his friend’s shoulder, “If they’re _here,_ if they were able to find us, doesn’t that mean somethings wrong? How do I know Lyra’s safe? She was supposed to be here, we were supposed to bring her. C’mon, talk sense it her.”

Hermione took a deep, calming breath, then pointed her wand at Dolohov’s forehead and said, “Obliviate.” At once, Dolohov’s eyes became unfocused and dreamy.

“Brilliant!” said Harry, clapping her on the back, ignoring Ban. “Take care of the other one and the waitress while Ron and I clear up.”

“Clear up?” said Ron, looking around at the partly destroyed café. “Why?”

“Don’t you think they might wonder what’s happened if they wake up and find themselves in a place that looks like it’s just been bombed?”

“Oh right, yeah...”

“And me?” Ban sighed. “What do you want me to do Harry?”

“Go to your sister. Make sure she’s safe,” Harry turned from him, “and—and don’t come back.” Harry swallowed and looked at his feet for a second before looking back up at Ban, “It’s too dangerous, you might be followed.”

“Harry—” Ron put a hand on his shoulder.

“What?” Ban blinked at him.

“I won’t make you choose between me and your sister. If I wasn’t absolutely certain me going back would get _everyone_ killed, then I would go make sure they were all safe in a heartbeat.”

“They recognized me and Ron,” said Hermione, “Harry was invisible the whole time.” Ban shook his head and ran his hand through his hair.

“I‘ll find you, I promise. I’ll shake them as soon as I get Lyra, and—and I’ll be back.” Harry opened his mouth to protest, “No. Hermione you can— I know you can reach me if you tried. Just...” Ban nodded, “Stay safe, and be careful. I’ll find you again.” Ban spun on the spot, he stared at his feet, as he stood on the fallen marquee and then ducked as fast as he could while Wizards shouted and shot spells at him. “Protego!” He screamed and then shot a stunning spell at one of his assailants that closed in on him. “Stupefy!” He shouted and a man grunted and fell backwards.

“Thuban?” Mrs. Weasley croaked. “Ban?” She as on him in seconds, pulling him into a bone crushing hug and running her hands over him to inspect him for injuries. “Oh my, dear w—where are the others? Harry, Hermione? Ron?” Her voice cracked and then she looked over his shoulder, “Where’s Lyra? Where’s your sister?”

“Lyra?”

“Were you not with her? We assumed— we couldn’t—”

“Where’s Fred and George? If she’s not here then they must have gotten her out.” Mrs. Weasley shook her head, “What do you— What do you mean they’re not talking?” He glanced back at the house and tore away from Mrs. Weasley, he sprinted up the slight incline. “Where’s Lyra?” He shouted as he spilled into the sitting room. Fred held his head in his hands and George nursed a glass of whiskey. “Gone!” Ban screamed, “What do you mean she’s _gone_.” He pushed Fred back against the sofa and fisted his shirt. “You were supposed to protect her!” Ban roared as he brought his first to Fred’s face, emotion overwhelmed him. “You were supposed to be with her,” He brought his fist down again, “how could you?” Their thoughts and feelings assaulted him and he fell away from Fred with a loud thud. “W—what do you mean?” He stared at his shaking limbs as they pushed their thoughts onto him. “They j—just took her and you— you didn’t—” Ban wiped his face and tried to shut them out, he clamped his eyes shut and held his splitting head. “STOP!” He screamed and then let out a strangled whimper as their combined agony wrecked him. “I’m so sorry, I—I didn’t know you were going to— that she was trying to— Lyra can’t be gone.”

George stood and crossed the room with out a word, he returned seconds later with a large bottle of whiskey. He topped off his glass and then held the bottle out for Ban, who accepted it gladly.

“They were all gone within seconds of taking her. We watched that masked bitch grab her and then—” Fred pressed a handkerchief against his bloody nose and tossed his head back against the sofa and sighed, “—she was gone.” Ban watched at Fred’s tears rolled down his face. “We should have done more, we should have stayed with her instead of—” Fred’s voice cracked and George handed his brother his glass. “She was right _fucking_ there, I could feel her breathing Ban and—” Fred sobbed, sucked in a breath and tossed back the drink. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Lyra’s all I had left.” Ban laughed and then took a long drink from the bottle, “I’m sure she was right about our Uncles, Lyra’s always right,” Ban took another drink and shook his head, “and I was too fucking stupid to believe her.” He looked up at the twins as they crumbled, Ban could feel their hearts breaking. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I—I’ll... we’ll get her back.”

## ❧

Lyra smiled up at him as he stood over her, “Hi Freddie.”

“Morning,” his lips pulled into a wide smile, “Sausage and eggs?” Fred flopped onto the bed and she nodded as she sat up. “I even put syrup on your sausages and bacon.” His face contorted in disgust, “American’s are _so_ broken.” Lyra chuckled at his mocking American accent.

“I don’t think it’s and American thing, Fred.” Lyra laughed and bit into the sausage after rolling it in the maple syrup, “It’s just a me thing.”

“If that’s the case,” Fred kissed her cheek as she chewed, “then it happens to be adorable.”

She hummed as he kissed down her neck and nipped at her shoulder. “Where’s George?”

“Still sleeping I think.” Lyra ate slowly and Fred offered her a glass of orange juice. “Had a long night.” Lyra’s body turned scarlet and Fred laughed. “Still on the sofa too, where you left him.”

“Really? Hey—” She pouted and sucked her thumb and forefinger clean of syrup while Fred took her plate from her, “I’m not done yet.”

Lyra slid back down into the bed as Fred leant over her, he kissed her deeply, desperately, and when he pulled from her, he licked his lips. “Sweet.”

“You’re not mad at me anymore?”

“I am.” Fred pulled the sheets from her and lifted her camisole so he could kiss her stomach.

“You’re keeping me locked up during all of my free time.” Lyra moaned when he sucked her hip, “I feel like a prisoner.”

Fred laughed as he kissed her body, moving lower and lower and sending the vibrations through her. “Would you like me to cuff you then?” He nipped at band of her underwear and then kissed her though them as he stared up at her. “Bad girl’s don’t deserve to go out and have fun.” Lyra’s back arched and she rolled her hips to meet Fred’s mouth as he pressed it against her. He trailed a finger over her, applying pressure and smirked up at her from between her legs, “So wet for me already,” he whispered and then circled her clit through the thin fabric, “Bad girl’s deserved to be punished.” Fred spread her legs wider and moved her panties to the side so he could see her. Lyra was panting as he stroked his fingers over her, “Have you been a bad girl Lyra?” She nodded, “Answer me properly Darling.” His voice was hard and demanding as he thrust his fingers into her.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ve been a bad girl— oh fuck, Fred.” He flexed his fingers and Lyra squirmed at his touch.

“And?”

“I deserve to be punished.” Lyra gripped the sheets, Fred brought his face back between her thighs and licked her at a torturously slow pace.

“Maybe, if you play nice with me now.” Fred pulled his mouth away from her with as he sucked her clit. Lyra whimpered, her head dug back against the pillows as he dragged his younger through her slick folds, “Be a good girl for me Darling, beg me for it... and maybe I’ll let you cum.”

“Yes. Please.” Lyra whined.

“Not yet Darling.” He stroked her face slid up her body to kiss her, “We have all morning.” He pulled at her bottom lip with his teeth, “I plan on making you late for class.” Fred sunk his thumb into her mouth as his other hand slid up her thigh. Her body rolled into his touch and she moaned when he—

Lyra groaned as the smell of food pulled her from her dream, her back and jaw ached, her brain felt like it was on fire. Her hand rose to touch her aching forehead and she scratched at the dried blood there. The door clicked and her eyes shot open, she glanced around the room quickly. She watched the back of a woman with long, pale hair, as she set a dish on an end table Lyra didn’t remember being there. “Who—” Lyra’s throat was raw and she held it tightly as she tried to swallow without her wincing.

“Good. You’re awake.” The woman turned slowly and clasped her hands delicately in front of her. “Draco told us that you enjoyed chicken, I hope Cornish game hen is sufficient.” Lyra coughed as she sat up and the woman moved slowly to offer her a glass. “It’s just water, dear.” She sipped the glass to prove her point and then gave it to Lyra.

“I’m not hungry.” Growled Lyra after she wiped her lips of the spilled drink.

“Oh, you simply must be by now. You’ve slept a whole day, and it’s well through breakfast.”

“No.” The woman squared her shoulders and gave the faintest shake of her head in annoyance. Lyra looked around the room, there was a bed and a dresser, a large wardrobe, a small end table and a vanity. The large furniture dwarfed the already small room, it was comical really. “Why am I here?”

“Because my son is in love with you.” Said the woman easily as she set the empty glass next to the tray. “Because my son in convinced you love him.”

“You’re Malfoy’s—”

“I’m Draco’s Mother, yes.” Lyra held her splitting head and wished the lights would at least dim as she laid back on the hard ground. Lyra dug her nails into her scalp as her bottom lip began to tremble. “Come dear, I’m sure the bed would be far more suitable—”

“Don’t. _Fucking_. Touch. Me.” Lyra growled out through clenched teeth. Draco’s Mother took a step back and held her hands in front of her again. The door opened and Lyra squeezed her eyes tighter when the room was filled with _him._ His suffocating presents, his nauseating cologne, his— _him_.

“Leave us.” His mother said nothing, simply left, the only sound she made was that of her heels on the stone floor. “Lyra—”

“Get. Out.”

“Don’t be like this, love.”

“If I am to be kept your prisoner, then I would prefer to be left in solitude.”

“Prisoner?” Lyra heard him move around the room, he squatted beside her and she rolled to turn her back to him. “Did you enjoy the wedding?” He ran his fingers over her bare back and she shivered at his cold hands. “You look beautiful. Took my breath away when I saw you.”

“ _Don’t_ ” she spoke through her teeth, “ _touch me._ ” He reached around her, grabbed her chin and forced her onto her back again.

“Now,” He sighed, “who do you think you’re talking to, Lyra?” He jostled her head and she glared up at him, Draco tsked, “You’ve forgotten your manners, Songbird.” He cocked his head and moved his eyes slowly over her face, “I will have to research you, love.” He sighed and released her, Draco hung head. “Those _Bloodtraitors_ stole you from me, brainwashed you, and now you’re grown so defiant.” Lyra whimpered as he brushed her hair out of her face, “You’re so _beautiful,_ ” His eyes moved lower and lower and Draco bit his lip, “I’ve missed you so much, Lyra.”

“I can’t say the same.” He dropped his head again, let out frustrated groan, and then stood.

“I have work to do. But I’ll be back when I can, you’ve proved yourself once before, and to me no less.” He gripped the doorknob tightly. “I’m sure convincing my Father of your loyalty will be simple enough.”

  
  


## ❧

  
  


The time she spent there was only documented by when Draco’s Mother brought her another tray of food. The woman sighed each time when she looked at the untouched plate and then took it away without a word or a sparing glanced to Lyra who had wedged herself in the gap she made between the wall and the bed. She raked her hand through her hair and groaned when some strands got stuck in her rings. Lyra stared at her hand for a long time, adjusting the rings and wiping the tears from her face before settling on the decision to switch the hands.

“Girl!” Called the masked Witch, Lyra ignored her and sank further down the wall. “Pathetic.” She stood in front of Lyra and kicked her leg, “Come with me.” She didn’t move, the woman groaned and then pulled Lyra to her feet by her arm and tossed her towards the open door. “I wouldn’t think of running, you wouldn’t manage to get far.” She pushed Lyra up a short flight of stairs and before she could even register the room she was thrown into, the masked Witch shouted a spell. Lyra’s hands were bound tightly together and she groaned and strained against her shackles. She shuddered at how cold she felt in an instant. “In case you wanted to use some magic.” The woman chuckled and pushed Lyra forward, she stumbled and the woman seized her elbow roughly, the woman lead her through the large manor with marble floors and expensive rugs. Lyra stared at her feet and counted her steps. “Wash.” She demanded as she pushed Lyra roughly into another room, “You’re disgusting.” When Lyra regained her footing she charged the door as it closed and groaned when her shoulder ached at the impact.

Lyra crossed the large bathroom and threw open the window, she leant her head out of it and before she could convince herself to jump it jerked shut. She watched as it shimmered with a barrier spell, “You didn’t think we’d be so stupid.” Draco closed the bathroom door slowly and Lyra pressed her forehead against the cold glass.

“I just need some air. I can’t breathe in here.” Lyra swallowed and let her breath rattle out of her chest to fog the glass.

“Perhaps, in the morning? I will take you to tour our gardens.” Lyra closed her eyes and let the cold creep into her from the glass. “Only if you behave yourself.” Lyra pulled her wrists apart, clinking the manacles that imprisoned her. “Here.” Draco was behind her, holding her waist tenderly with one hand and directing his wand at her wrists with the other. “Better?” His tone was soft, a whisper, a ghost of someone show could partly remember.

Lyra rubbed her raw skin and gave extra care to the scar that wrapped around her left wrist. It throbbed and ached, she looked towards the frosted window and wished she could see the sky. _It was going to rain._ “I’m fine.” She held her wrist to her chest when he reached to touch her, recoiling from his hand.

Draco’s eyes softened, saddened, as his outstretched hand balled into a fist before falling to his side, “Mother told me you haven’t been eating.”

“Yes, well,” Lyra rested her head against the window again, her body was too warm. A sweltering heat had bloomed inside of her and the window hissed lightly as she rolled her forehead against the cold condensation. “Being held against my will seemed to have killed my appetite.” Draco huffed and backed away from her to lean against the marble countertop.

“I thought a bath would make you feel better.” Lyra jumped at the sound of the water running into the tub, “They always made you feel better... before.” Lyra stared at the filling tub and then glanced back at Draco, “It might help you settle the into your new home.”

“Home?” Lyra laughed, “Prison.” She scoffed.

“You’re not my prisoner Lyra.” Draco moved quickly, in a blink he was in front of her, staring down at her with his deep grey eyes. In another blink he was caressing her face, holding her face between his palms and shifting his gaze around her face, as if trying to solve a puzzle, Draco shook his head, “I love you. Can’t you see that?” His head dipped and Lyra turned her face to stare at the tub as it filled. He sighed into her hair, breathing in deep as he slid his hand to the back of her neck, he gave it an annoyed squeeze to before he took a step back.

“I don’t think you know what love is Malfoy.” His jaw hardened as he returned to leaning against the counter.

The tub filled and the faucets stopped, “Get in the tub.” Lyra stared at the steaming bath for a moment and then looked firmly at Draco.

“No.”

His eyes narrowed, “I can make you, if that’s what you prefer.”

“I’d _prefer_ to go home.” She growled, “I’d _prefer_ to not have to spend another fucking second here. I’d _prefer_ to not have to attempt to stomach your presence.” Draco’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the counter, “You abduct me... steal me away from my family and lock me up in a creepy fucking _dungeon_ , and for what?” Lyra laughed dryly, “To live out this deranged fantasy of yours? Because you somehow managed to delude yourself into _actually_ thinking I could want this? You? Being in the same room as you _disgusts_ me! You think that I could love you?” Lyra laughed again, “And that Witch called _me_ pathetic. You’re vile, deranged, an actual fucking psychopath—” She didn’t see him move, barely saw his hand twitch, let alone notice his wand, but as she sank against the far wall she noticed Draco pointing it at her. “See?” Lyra held her ribcage as pain crept into her and her vision blurred. “This isn’t love.” Draco twisted his wrist and she screamed.


End file.
